


Sass and Murder

by norcumi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, GFY, Group Sex, M/M, Multi, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Other, Smut, Twincest, always twins Obi-Wan, by which i mean moresomes, might have missed some pairings, the Kenobi Twins/so many others, there is actual plot too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:31:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7698400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norcumi/pseuds/norcumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long, long ago, in a different galaxy far, far away, two boys were born with the name "Kenobi."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Countless thanks to the brilliant, supportive folks on the tumbls for being encouraging, rebageling, and generally cheering this fic into being. Y'all are amazing. Thank you. 
> 
> Particular thanks to: Mamajo, who [started the ball rolling](http://norcumi.tumblr.com/post/141397665619/lacefedora-norcumi-booksaresacredspew); MoreCivilizedAge, who kicked the smut angle into gear (and thus ensured that this got written) and gave smut advice throughout; Flamethrower, who also gave smut advice and plot advice when Chapter 8 was eating my soul; and Dogmatix, who shepherded things into being, saw plot holes into something better, and overall makes all the writing ever so very awesome.

The Kenobi twins come into the creche together, and they know from early on that they are…special. It’s not just that they are strong with the Force. They are close, unseemly so, Attached to each other as Jedi do not do.

They refuse to go into separate clans. They remain together in spite of tradition, until the creche masters give up with resigned sighs.

It’s obvious the boys are going to wash out anyways.

It’s a shame, really. They are bright, and eager, and skilled. One prefers piloting, the other diplomacy, and both excel with the lightsaber. They would be exemplary Jedi – except they refuse to separate from each other.

One master, one student. It is part of the Jedi code.

The boys will not part for that. Everyone knows it.

When Master Qui-Gon Jinn is finally coerced into the creche lightsaber exhibition, in the hopes he will take a padawan, it is obvious the boys catch his eye. Even their main rival, Bruk Chun, cannot pull the unconventional master’s eyes from the twins.

Yet even Qui-Gon Jinn refuses to break that part of the code. He leaves with no padawan, the twins weeks from their fate in the AgriCorps.

The three return from Bandomeer together, and according to the Temple rumor mill, it takes but a few hours for Master Jinn to badger Plo Koon into taking one of the twins as a padawan, while Jinn takes the other.

They are in the Temple rarely enough that they are just a little too obvious that Jinn is their Master, though Master Koon has a clear hand in the boys’ piloting and weapon skills. The Kenobi with the sharper tongue takes after Jinn’s more conventional diplomatic skills, while the other becomes Koon’s pride and prodigy in a star fighter.

No one is quite sure who first refers to the Kenobis as Sass and Murder. The two come up with plenty of different origin stories, though consensus seems to be that the one’s sharp tongue, and the other’s terrifying scores in shuttle skirmishes have something to do with it. The boys take to the names with more enthusiasm than many masters are comfortable with, but the boys laugh off concerns as absurd. Masters Jinn and Koon do the same.

By the time Jinn and his padawans are sent to Naboo, the boys have only each other as a true challenge with the lightsaber. They delight in the opportunities to spar with their masters, as that _is_ something that tests their skills. Qui-Gon is their peer in the field, and whispered compliments often coax a thin, proud smile from Master Dooku.

Yoda’s lineage is indeed a great tribute to the Temple.

Then Naboo. Plo Koon is occupied with his Council seat, and it is hardly the first (or first hundredth) time Master Jinn has taken both twins with him.

The next time Master Koon sees his padawan, the young man is pale, a bit uncertain as he stands behind his Master’s Council seat. When Qui-Gon Jinn claims the presumptive Chosen One as his padawan, both Kenobis flinch as if physically struck.

Mace Windu breaks his Jedi stoicism to give Jinn a massive dressing down, for “even you _must_ face that more than one padawan is against the code!”

The unspoken number ‘three’ rings through the Council chambers as if it could shake the room itself apart.

Koon is the one to break the heavy silence before Jinn can. “I know for a fact that my padawan is ready for his trials. Since he and his brother keep abreast of each other, I see no reason why they should wait much longer. When they succeed, then Master Jinn would be more than capable of handling a new padawan learner.”

Murder goes from stressed and concerned to a touch relieved at ‘when’ instead of ‘if,’ but his brother remains gaunt behind the facade of Jedi serenity. Sass is later the quieter twin when the padawans confront their master, but Jinn is unswayed. All leave the confrontation with the uncomfortable taste of discord in their mouths.

The sense of destiny, of _potential_ just waiting to topple down the mountain slope, grows the closer they get to Naboo. The twins are prepared during the war, hurtling into combat with less joy than usual and more worry. When they and the Queen’s entourage storm the hanger, Murder is almost to a shuttle while his twin follows close on their Master’s heels.

The blast of the Dark side unveiling itself has Sass and Qui-Gon halting with lightsabers lit, while Murder hesitates to leap into a ready star fighter. His desire to help his sib and Master is clear in every line of face and body, but Qui-Gon gestures for him to go even as the other two Jedi shed their robes to face the Sith.

Murder is in the thick of the dogfight when his mind screams, and by the time he can clear his head he’s hurtling through the atmosphere, racing back to Theed’s palace at reckless, near deadly speeds.

He is too late. He skids into the generator room, curling around his keening brother who still holds their Master, and all he can do is grieve along with his twin.

Vows are made, in that little nightmare of a room. Sass promised Qui-Gon he would train Anakin. Murder makes it clear he is not going to separate from his twin again. Whatever they do, unless his brother demands they are doing it _together._

Plo Koon is the Council member to greet them, and for a moment they are just two young men, hugging their mentor and clinging to proof that their entire universe has not crashed down around their ears.

Koon is the one to cut their braids, and his voice is thick as he thanks them for the half braid they both give him. He watches, grieving along with them, as they place the other halves in Qui-Gon’s hands before the pyre is lit.

* * *

Sass is indeed declared Anakin’s master. Murder makes no pretense of subtlety as he moves his few possessions into his brother’s room, and the two take up duties training Anakin. The boy thrives under their care and attention, and the need to take care of someone else helps them recover as well.

For all that, they’re both grateful when they are assigned a sop job as bodyguards to an up and coming young senator, while Master Koon keeps an eye on their padawan – and presumably plans to spend _far_ too much time souping up Koon’s latest star fighter.

As young Knights, Sass and Murder take to their bodyguard responsibilities with a mixture of enthusiastic eagerness and solemn diligence.

They make an intimidating team, bracketing Senator Organa through the halls, their cloaks billowing behind them with their hands conspicuously on mismatched lightsabers. They do have to fend off occasional bounty hunters, and they try to carry out their duties with efficiency and subtlety.

They make an even better team in the privacy of Bail’s quarters. Within days the twins are trading off who can wring the best noises from Bail, gently competing with each other over who can tease Bail the highest without making him come. He returns the favor by seeing which twin is louder, and just what he has to do to get them to curse.

By the end of the week they’re making sure to regularly fuck; one twin behind Bail, the other riding his cock, swapping off which one gets to watch the Prince’s face as he comes thoroughly undone.

* * *

Since the twins visit the Senate on occasion, they see Chancellor Palpatine take a shine to Anakin. They work to make sure at least one of them stays for supervision, though they also try to stay out of the way. They like Bail well enough, but politicians, in the end, are suspect, and Murder especially gets nervous about any of the three of them wandering off too far.

Sass chews him out regularly about it, but since – within reason – Anakin seems to appreciate the attention, they only back off a little.

* * *

By the time Anakin hits the more problematic teenage years, Sass and Murder have figured out reasonable boundaries for the three of them. Anakin remains lackluster when it comes to the lightsaber – a bit of a disappointment to both his masters, but they still get to face off against each other, and no one can excel at everything. Anakin truly shines when it comes to mechanicals and piloting. Murder might know very little about the former, but he’s pleased that he has direct, legitimate areas wherein Anakin is _his_ student.

Reasons to spend time swapping pilot stories with Master Koon are an additional bonus, and the Kel Dor spends more than a few evenings chatting with his former students and his grand padawan.

* * *

Their routine of hectic, mad field work and the utterly boring classwork Anakin suffers through is broken when they are once again assigned as bodyguards to a senator. Anakin begs off, so they send him with Master Plo to go visit Kel Dor, see the sights and hopefully not blow up anything too important.

Then they sit down to figure out what the hell Bail’s angle is. His fingerprints are all over this assignment to guard Senator Chuchi, and they’re determined to figure out why he’s pulling strings to get them watching the Pantoran’s back.

Within minutes of meeting her, it’s obvious. She’s a charming and gracious woman – lovely in several senses – but her backbone only lasts a short time in the face of certitude.

There are an awful lot of Senators who think the universe revolves around them, and Chuchi pays too much attention to the seniority of those around her.

Trust Bail to try to get his two Jedi-with-benefits to help boost the confidence of an ally and what is likely a friend.

Not that they _mind_. Riyo Chuchi’s heart is in the right place, even if her spine might not be. So Sass and Murder set to work. They are the solid bulwark behind her, glowering at those who would manipulate the woman through intimidation. They are careful prods in the right direction, soft words of reassurance when she asks for their opinion.

They make a good working team, and the Jedi make note that if they ever need a politician diplomating for them, she’s a grand choice.

They are rather surprised to find out the hard way that she has a _much_ better politician’s mask than they thought. There doesn’t seem to be any actual, real threat to the Senator’s life, so while they sleep lightly, they’re not setting a rotating guard at night. When Chuchi walks out of her rooms into the common area far earlier than they would expect, given her normal routine, the burst of embarrassment wakes them instantly. They roll away from each other, off the makeshift bed they’ve set up in front of the door because they’re early risers and they really don’t like leaving the Senator poorly guarded. They have their backs towards each other, lightsabers in hand and ignited, before it percolates in that the embarrassment is shot through with arousal, and Riyo Chuchi is staring at them.

Murder, who is always a little slower mentally in the mornings, blinks at her. Sass, who can actually pretend to think before tea, blushes. “We’re twins,” he protests faintly. “We’ve always been more comfortable sleeping together. We’ve been sharing bunks since – well, since we could sneak past the creche masters.”

“Oh,” the Senator says in a voice just as faint, not looking away from them even as her cheeks flush lavender.

It dawns on Murder that he and his twin are there in just their sleep pants, and while the drawstrings are pulled tight and tied off it’s still not very much in the way of clothing. Add in that they’ve spent twenty odd years sleeping curled up around each other, and it…must’ve been a bit of a surprise to walk in on. He flushes and looks away, then glances back as the Senator’s emotions flail about a bit more.

Sass figures it out first. “Is there something we can help with, Senator?”

She stammers out something that is denial before retreating back to her rooms, and Sass grins at Murder. “Bail set us up.”

“We knew that a week ago.”

Sass rolls his eyes and drags his twin into the kitchen for tea. “No, the other kind of set up.”

They figure that whatever the Senator is doing about her issues related to the morning, they’re all back on the normal routine. Since it’s a rest day, once they have tea they spar in the front area. With the bedding cleared away, there’s a nice bit of room for them to practice close combat in. Their lightsabers on lowest practice setting make barely a crackle even when locked together, so they go at it.

Murder honestly isn’t sure when the Senator comes back out, only that she’s watching them by the time they’re done. Still in their sleep pants, mussed from a halfway decent workout, and the Senator. Doesn’t. Stop. Staring.

Sass, asshole that he is, smiles and repeats his earlier question, in a voice slightly deeper, just a bit more flirtatious. “Is there something we can help with, Senator?”

They’re not expecting her to lift her chin and meet their eyes, Sass first, then Murder. “On…on perhaps a temporary basis? Would, ah, either of you be interested in that?”

“Oh, we both would.”

* * *

Riyo can be delightfully more confident with those she trusts, knowing herself and her interests quite well. She is quite surprised to find she is the first female the twins have been intimate with, but she rallies quickly enough. It’s pretty obvious that using one twin to demonstrate what she likes to the other is a new experience for her, but they all enjoy it. She is indeed just as lovely during sex, setting aside her gracious poise for affectionate playfulness. She enjoys teasing the twins, taking her time to play with them both. Her slim form fits well between them, the cool blue of her skin and the lavender of her hair striking against their pale skin and copper hair.

They spend an awful lot of time like that, sprawled naked together on her oversized bed or the plush sofas in the living area.

* * *

The twins are honestly surprised and uncomfortable when the Chancellor assigns them as bodyguards to Padmé Amidala. They’re pretty sure Palpatine hasn’t heard about their…reputation, and it’s only been Bail and Riyo anyways, and it’s not like that was for very long and they mostly just visit as friends (with some really really nice benefits).

They also remember Amidala as the fiercely competent _fourteen year old_ , not to mention a Force-blind idiot could tell Anakin was, and still is head over heels for her.

It’s still a bit of a shock to be reminded that it’s been ten years, and the Queen has now become a Senator – and she is damn good at her job. Watching Anakin bumble through the reunion is almost physically painful, and the two are telepathically wrangling over who has to take their padawan aside and have a few words about authenticity over…whatever the hells it is he’s doing.

Sass loses, so he’s the one enduring a bit of a tantrum later on, which he later blames for an insane lunge through a _window_. That, and between Anakin and Murder behind the yoke of a speeder, he was beyond confident that he would be fine.

Sass then has to endure a tantrum from his twin, so all in all, it’s only a somewhat exciting day.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s possibly one of their worst decisions ever, but they send Anakin and Padmé off incognito to Naboo. Murder is the one who points out that as they very well know, Naboo and Tatooine aren’t too far from each other, and if Anakin were to do something a little unconventional, well, it’s not like his masters are there to stop him.

They’re not entirely sure Anakin gets the hint, but Padmé probably does, and if she’s as infatuated as she seems instead of covering for the urge to put Anakin out of everyone’s misery, she’ll see to it.

Murder spends the day bodyguarding Sabé and trying to not ogle the head of the security detail. That’s actually harder than it sounds. Captain Gregar Typho is rakishly attractive, burning with dedication to his charges – and a deeply tamped down interest in the twins. Sabé isn’t much better, though at least her interest is more physical and seems to tie into stress relief from being the target of assassins.

Said bounty hunters really leave Murder wanting to live up to his name before the day is over, because the fuckers make two more attempts, though with less discretion and a lot more property damage. The three end up holed up at the Senate, behind the potentially useless ranks of Senate guards. The Naboo offices have some _nice_ fortifications, at least, so Murder tries to not be too grumpy with his twin who is off doing _research_.

To be fair, Madame Nu in a snit is worse than at least a pair of bounty hunters, so he really does try to not be too cranky.

Sabé helps a _lot_ with that, by slipping out of the secured back room, giving him a smoldering look and making an oblique offer to jack him off – with the implication of him returning the favor. Murder is caught smack dab between fascination – this is a woman who hates inaction – and the urge to beat his head against a wall – because that is a terrible idea, leaving the main defender with his pants down and –

He is slow to turn, and it’s just because Typho has a mix of the same frustrated fascination that Murder feels, though with a bit more lust mixed in. Seeing the man look at him like that, knowing that professionally speaking, they ought to keep their hands to themselves, but oh, does this man _want_.

“Better idea,” Sabé declares. “I stay in my nice boring bolt hole with heavy munitions, and I get to watch you two.”

It is a terrible idea. He feels a little guilty leaving his twin out of the fun, but they all need to take an edge off and it’s rather obvious that this is something they would all like, and he and Typho try to be fast about it.

Sabé makes delicious noises fucking her hand while staring at them, and Typho is a tall, solid presence wrapping around him, large hands along Murder’s cock while he returns the favor, senses open wide in the Force.

No one attacks them – then, or later in the day – and Murder has always enjoyed being open to the Force during sex, and the feel of Typho and Sabé’s minds is fabulous.

Which is good, because when Sass finds them later that evening, he has more questions than answers.

 _Kamino_. Something about the name jangles in the Force, uncanny and disconcerting. Murder is the better pilot, while Sass is more the diplomat. Listening to the Force, the universe around them, they decide odds are better with Murder going.

* * *

Sass has a strange few days. It’s not like his twin didn’t inform him of how Sabé likes to take the edge off. It’s not like he can’t see the way Typho can’t quite meet his eyes at first.

It’s charming, really. Big man like that, acting as if somehow the Kenobis don’t talk to each other or something. It’s downright adorable how an exchange of blowjobs leads to Typho being able to meet his eyes, but always with a blush.

Sabé does seem to like watching them.

* * *

Sass has a bad feeling that only builds as the day progresses. By the afternoon, he _knows_ something is wrong with his twin, but Murder is too far across the galaxy for Sass to know anything more. When Anakin coms in, transmitting Murder’s message from Geonosis – which is not Kamino – that only confirms trouble.

He’s not expecting a gods damned army. An army of clones. Force bless, what the hells is going on?

As the Order mobilizes, Sass is struck watching a horrific feed of a farce of a trial. Anakin and Senator Amidala, with no sign of Murder. There is, however, another familiar face in this trial. Dooku – Count now, instead of Master – is presiding, and he is spearheading this ridiculous Separatist business.

Fuck that, fuck everything.

Yoda drags Sass along with him to Kamino instead of letting him traipse off to Geonosis. On the one hand, he wants to join his brother. On the other, Sass knows that if he sees Dooku he is going to try to rip that man’s fool head off. This Sep business is a betrayal of the Order, the Republic, and most importantly, everything Qui-Gon ever fought for.

No, better to leave that mess to Mace’s tender mercies.

In the meantime he is fascinated by the clones. When he opens himself to the Force, they shine like all the stars in so many systems, collected into one small area. Areas on Coruscant can feel like this, but rarely so dedicated to one purpose, nor does it have the fascinating property of all those individuals having the same face.

When Yoda listens to either his intuition, the Force, or indigestion, the old master orders this new army into its transports to go to Geonosis. Sass isn’t sure about the wisdom of this, but Yoda is old and experienced enough that he follows the plan.

He doesn’t quite do what Yoda probably means, when telling him to take charge of a battle group. The old troll probably means for him to go find the nearest commanding officer and requesting a group of men like ordering nerf at a restaurant.

Sass is having none of that. He opens himself to the Force again, and starts walking. His eyes are almost closed, though he never trips as he wanders through what feels like an ocean of saluting men. He only stops when several pinpoints of light sparkle near him, undercurrents of humor and pragmatism threading through dedication and a hint of idealism. Two of those lights seem interconnected with many others, tied to them, which probably means leaders.

Sass opens his eyes to look at the clones standing before him. The ranking officers are a captain and a commander – the former without a helmet, and his short hair a shocking blond that has to be natural.

Commander. Good. Sass smiles at the man, who straightens further. “I’m Knight Kenobi.” He bows, only to be interrupted by the surrounding clones saluting.

The commander nods – though if it’s to Sass, or the men for behaving properly, he can’t tell – and reaches up to remove his helmet. This clone is fierce looking, with a nasty scar curling around his left eye. “CC-2224. What can I do for you, General?”

Sass tries to beat down the twist of unease in his stomach. Numbers. Gods. Two hundred thousand men, so clearly individuals, and they are identifying themselves by _serial numbers_. “Well, first off, I’m not a General – at least, I don’t think I am – so if you’d prefer to call me Kenobi or Sass, I respond to both.”

As he hopes, the nickname throws them. He doesn’t however expect for every clone in hearing range to turn and stare at him as if they are hawks and he a particularly fat mouse.

“‘Sass,’ sir?” the blond captain asks, a strange incredulity on his face.

“A nickname I picked up a long time ago, Captain. If it makes you feel any better, my brother goes by ‘Murder,’ so I suspect it’s not the most ridiculous thing you’ll hear. And you are?”

Sass is trying not to blink or shake, both of which somehow seem to be good options, because when he named his brother he could feel the loyalty of every man in hearing range snap on to him. In the Force, he feels like he’s somehow become magnetized, as if his words kickstarted a generator and now all these threads are aimed right at him. It is a raw feeling, to be the center of attention, but he is used to that. This is raw, warming, and somehow brutal all at once. Not just attention. Devotion, and he has no idea what he just did to earn that.

The captain doesn’t seem to register it, nor how he is now oriented with Sass as his polar north. He has a hint of a smile as he lifts his chin to look Sass in the eyes. “CT-7567, sir. Rex.”

Gods bless, they’ve named themselves. As Sass looks over at the commander – “Cody, sir.” – and he is introduced to the mixed command crew of the 501 and the 212, he somehow keeps his smile looking real.

Simple names. Single words, often descriptions.

He has a brother, and the two of them named themselves much like these men did. It is a disconcerting, warming parallel, and Sass is already cursing himself out for the Attachment problem he and his twin have never really overcome.

He’s pretty sure they’re going to try to keep them all.


	3. Chapter 3

Murder is having a pretty lousy day. Admittedly, it’s now one in a string of lousy days, but even in the life of a Kenobi this is high on the poodoo meter.

It is always easier to focus on sarcasm and gallows humor than the gallows themselves.

There’s a deep ache beneath his breastbone as the small band of Jedi cluster together, backs to each other and facing the growing ring of droids that are prepared to finish off all – Force, however many fools had come to challenge Dooku.

If Murder had been allowed to eat anything over the last few rotations, he’d sick it up. Over a hundred Jedi have died, that is all he knows. Because of Dooku. A part of him wants to scream, because that’s his grandmaster, a man he should be able to look up to, a man he should be able to _trust_ , but instead this is a man who left him to the Geonosians. Invited him to abandon the Republic.

Qui-Gon might have had a rocky relationship with Dooku, but Qui-Gon had always believed that Dooku was a good man. Looking around at countless dead Jedi, Murder is left with the heartsick choice between Qui-Gon having been very, very wrong, or the universe being very, very fucked up.

He is the first to look away from Dooku’s snide demands of surrender, because the Kenobis might not have the sheer power that Anakin does, but they do have one hell of a mental bond with each other. He’s starting to bare his teeth in a grin as the first gunship screams into view, turrets slamming blasterfire into the massed droids.

Murder can see Master Yoda standing in the lead gunship, braced on his cane and radiating grief and disapproval. Sass is in the second, also surrounded by white armored figures that cluster around him protectively.

The Jedi hustle to the incoming ships, helping each other aboard, and the twins waste a moment for a hug as the – gods, it must be the clones – help Anakin and Padmé aboard.

“Sir! We’re getting clear!” Yup. That’s Jango’s distinctive voice, and since the man disappeared mid-fight with his son, Murder is willing to bet that the Jedi have indeed claimed their army.

Force help them all. This is probably a full-fledged declaration of war, given and accepted.

They chase after Dooku, Murder becoming increasingly aware that the cloned soldiers are staring at him and Sass with an emotional intensity that’s dizzying. There is a strange sense of claiming, not quite possessiveness but more than latching on to a commanding officer in the area. He doesn’t know what to make of that.

When the gunship takes a nasty hit, spilling Padmé and several soldiers out onto the sands, the twins are reacting immediately. Murder is grabbing Anakin’s arm, keeping him from leaping after, while Sass is talking sense into him.

It’s _Padmé Amidala_ , for Force’s sake. She held off a full grown nexu with a chain, and she now has a blaster and several clone troopers with her. Honestly. Murder is more concerned they’ll come out of their Dooku confrontation to find she’s taken over Geonisis all by herself and those clones.

The fact that Sass is emphasizing that Rex and Jesse are some of the best soldiers around is a little bit terrifying, because it means once again they haven’t managed to buck the Jinn trend of having various lifeforms follow them home – not if Sass can name them already.

The notion of Qui-Gon sours Murder’s stomach again, and he’s a little fierce letting go of Anakin.

The confrontation goes worse than he expects. He’s got several days of privation under his belt – not able to eat, move, sleep. If he hadn’t been a Force user, able to meditate, he couldn’t even well walk, let alone hold a lightsaber. Sass is also pretty clearly stressed, and they’re out of synch; not to mention they’ve had only each other to hone their skills on for a little too long.

Anakin – Anakin has never really excelled with the lightsaber.

Murder nearly loses an arm. Anakin actually does. Sass manages to keep Dooku at bay long enough for Yoda to interfere, but Dooku tries to actually kill them, not just maim them.

Rocks coming down on their heads. If it wasn’t a huge betrayal, it’d be insulting.

Sass’ legs are a fucking mess – he’s never liked guarding low, and it seems Dooku remembers that. Murder’s got one seared arm, and another that’s…missing more meat than he really wants to look at long enough to figure out the damage involved.

Padmé is not subtle at all, coming in and flinging herself at Anakin.

One of the clones accompanying her seems to be a medic, because he flings himself at Anakin with almost as much fervor, though a lot more cursing. One of Sass’ clones from the gunship coms in for another medic while doing some basic field triage on them. Rex-and-Jesse take up guard at the entrance, and it makes for a good time to go unconscious.

* * *

Murder wakes up to find Jango Fett looking at him. Ok, so it’s a medical clone, and the man’s not trying to eye fuck him, but it’s still weird. Sass is still unconscious in the bed next door, and they seem to be in a space transport.

“Sir, please lie back down. You’re not cleared to leave yet.”

Great. Seems the clones have learned typical healer skills, and they aren’t afraid to use them on Jedi. He settles for being a good patient, because he’s got some kind of feed going to his arm, bacta wraps in too many places, and he’s more exhausted and hurt than he wants to let on. So he grumbles, but stays put.

Doesn’t seem like the medic buys it, but fuck the medic anyways.

“Do you always fight to get out of Medical like this, sir?” The question comes from the other side of Murder, and he flops his head over to look at the man seated in the visitor’s chair next to him. It’s a clone; so he’s not sure why he’s looking at the man, but he’s fascinated to see a hell of a scar around the left side of the clone’s face. Doesn’t look recent.

“You were in the gunship.” He nearly grunts at the emotional impact from the clone, a flash of the man’s almost instinctive latching on to him. Might as well be shouting ‘yes, good, _mine_ ’ at Murder. “And calling for a medic.”

“Yes sir.” The faintest hint of a smirk creeps onto the man’s face, and his eyes show actual humor. “So do you always fight to get out of Medical?”

“Only if I’m the patient,” Murder quips automatically, trying not to stare. Gods, the way the man shimmers in the Force when he’s laughing on the inside. The way it shines in his eyes – fuck. They are keeping them, and thank the gods it’s likely that for once he can get away with claiming they followed the twins home.

* * *

Sass clearly underestimated the impact he and Murder have as twins. He’s used to being stared at, the Force thick with the emotional equivalent of “oh isn’t he a pretty little thing” (He’ll accept pretty, but he will endlessly fight little. He isn’t little; he just has the unfortunate tendency to hang out with freakish giants like Anakin, or Mace, or Plo – he stops that sulk before the list gets too long).

Yet it seems that to get the attention of the clones, all he and Murder have to do is walk into a room together. As soon as the soldiers register that there’s more than one identical face they home in on them, and there is a sense of camaraderie, _acceptance_ that is bewildering. The only major difference the twins have is that Sass keeps his hair a little longer than Murder, and gods know the clones often try for greater variation between themselves.

In the first week they’re approached over a dozen times with cautious young soldiers who ask – indirectly to blunt as hell – if they’re clones too. The first few times, while Sass and Murder sputter, Cody or Rex or any of the older 212/501 crew frogmarch the poor young idiot off to have a Talk.

After that, it seems Murder’s sense of humor kicks in, and credits start changing hands pretty fast. They try to be kind to the shinies, as the younger rookies start to be called, but there’s a certain point where if they’re not asking their Sergeants these kinds of questions, then some lessons need to work their way through the ranks.

The first batch of shinies they get that look at the twins with respectful fascination, and never ask (much to Cody’s mock disgruntlement on losing out on a bunch of credits), the twins don’t stop grinning for a whole rotation.

* * *

The twins think it’s a little early to knight Anakin, but the Council “encourages” them to make that decision. They can see it’s at least in part due to the Geonosis fiasco – over 200 Jedi, dead, in a massacre like the galaxy hasn’t seen in centuries. The Council wants as many field Jedi as they can find, teach, or pry out of retirement.

Anakin is hardly the only padawan pushed towards knighthood. The twins resist, because matters are…confused enough as it is. The new bionic arm is something Anakin doesn’t seem to mind, though at long last he does dedicate himself to learning the lightsaber. Sass and Murder can practically hear his mind snarling “not happening again!” during every training session – and it worries them a little. Padmé helps, of course. Within two weeks of Geonosis, there is some fledgeling bond between the two, though neither twin asks. If they don’t _actually_ know, then they have plausible deniability.

Though he’s still a commander, and not a knight and general, Anakin takes charge of the 501. The 212th is claimed by Murder, who is more than a little smug about the 7th Sky.

Sass gets assigned a squad of ARCs, which is not what he expected. He doesn’t mind – both he and his brother wryly acknowledge that no matter how dedicated their soldiers are, two Generals vying for control of one battlegroup makes for a mess. It’s easier when matters are on multiple fronts, because multitasking like that is one of the ways they excel.

Sass finds he rather enjoys the challenge his new ARCs present. They’re led by Alpha 17, who can swing between Sass’ favorite battlefield playmate and the most annoying bastard in existence. There really is no inbetween for that man. The first time Sass storms into the officers’ tent to complain to Murder about “grumpbucket the bloody violent bastard,” his brother laughs hard enough that the idiot cracks his skull falling off a chair. Asshole.

Still. It makes for an interesting challenge.

* * *

It takes Murder awhile to get used to the way the officers of the 212 – and yes, a good chunk of the 501 – home in on him and Sass as their centers. It’s not exactly that – the clones are way too pragmatic to consider any being the center of their universe – but for certain soldiers the twins are…beacons. Something to align to.

It’s a damned uncanny feeling.

Murder tries to shrug it off, reminding himself often that they have a war to win. Now is not the time to let the libido take the helm. Ok, sure, there’s time in a dark cabin, whispering to his twin as they jack themselves off. It doesn’t help that the clones have absolutely no sense of body shyness, which the twins found out the frustrating way.

It might never have showed up in his report to the Council, but it wasn’t just Jango Fett involved in a bout of eye fucking.

For all that, he and Sass talk it through, and settle on the wisest course to be uninvolved with the soldiers – chain of command problems if nothing else, which leaves them both uneasy with the mess of what about…after. In the meantime, they ought to be in the Core often enough that they can see Riyo or Bail if they feel the need for outside assistance. For that matter, given Anakin and Padmé, they’re liable to be at Naboo occasionally.

Murder doesn’t expect this decision to be tested. In his defense, it is not his fault.

He and Sass train with the men, especially the officers, as often as is wise. They want their soldiers to be familiar and comfortable with their Jedi’s abilities, and that means everything from sparring in hand to hand to mock skirmishes against each other, one Jedi and squad versus another.

It’s another boring day of hurry up and wait; scramble to get to a distant system as fast as possible, which means several interminable rotations in hyper. Sass and Murder set up a free spar, one on one with any brother that wants to come at them. Full gear, since the whole point is to expand their abilities in the field.

Murder and his twin are halfway back to their quarters – and the private, if tiny, ‘fresher it has – when Murder realizes that once again, Jesse boosted supplies off his belt. He grumbles his way back to the locker room attached to the gym area, waving his twin off to go claim the first shower. Jesse’s habit of lifting interesting objects off others in close combat is amusing, but it seems part of the fun for him is making whoever it is fetch their shit.

There’s a token partition for officers to have a slightly more private area – with the way the men don’t give a damn who sees them in what state of dress, Murder figures it’s more for opportunities to avoid horseplay and talk without everyone being in on the conversation. He walks into the officer’s area, since that entrance is closest, turns the corner, and stops to gape.

Force help him, there’s no way he could just turn around and pretend to have not seen Rex and Cody. They’re naked, braced up against the wall with the sonics, Cody mostly pinning Rex to the wall. They’re jacking each other off, heads tilted in close to murmur to each other, heated words that Murder can’t pick up more than the tone. The arousal and affection pound through the area, and he knows he should just step back, leave.

Gods, maybe he’s waited a little too long to hook up with someone. He does not want to move, not with such an incredible, lovely view no matter how rude or wildly inappropriate it is.

Then Rex moans at something Cody says, his head going up and back, hips starting to buck. Murder can see a hint of smirk on Cody’s face, then Rex opens his eyes.

He’s looking right at Murder.

“General!” Rex gasps, voice quiet and more than half sensual groan. The feeling of lust peaks, Rex slumping back against the wall as he comes. Cody doesn’t seem to mind the mess as he chuckles, sidles closer – stops, as Rex fumbles out with his free hand to grab Cody’s arm. The commander’s head whips around, and he stills as he sees Murder.

Even if he didn’t want those two, both or either, Murder would probably be getting a second hand hard-on from the sheer _want_ from them.

Oh. Oh, Cody hadn’t realized the title was acknowledgment. Which meant their little discussion had to be relevant.

“General,” Cody says, and Murder goes from suspecting to knowing. It almost sounds normal. In the Force, the word is laced with all sorts of connotations. He knows he should pretend right along with them, find some sort of excuse to retreat, leave everyone with some shred of dignity –

But.

Murder sends out a telepathic “help me!” to his twin, keeping a tight leash so it doesn’t reach Anakin. It’s perhaps not fair, but he can’t find a useful, polite middle ground so his twin gets the gist of the matter without the impression of the exquisite visuals.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” he says in the meantime. Rex is blushing, not quite able to look him in the eyes, while Cody is almost shaking with the emotional restraint he keeps so tight on himself.

Cody opens his mouth, already shaking his head.

Then Sass storms in, with that faintly pissed air he can have. He must have Force run from their cabin, and he is a mess. Still sweaty and a rumpled mess from their sparring, he’s down to the light undertunic and trousers. No shoes, just the look that means he – oh fuck, he must have thought Murder was pranking him.

Sass rears back as he realizes that no, there is indeed a fantastic tableau before him, and the uncertainty in his stance overtakes the anger.

Murder figures it’s the clothes – and lack thereof – and the change in body language that does it. It seems to be too much for Cody, who makes a noise that might almost be a whimper. Rex’s hand on his arm tightens, and Cody makes a few quick thrusts into the other hand still on his cock. He comes with a full-body shiver, and while his eyes flutter his control is impressive. He sways a little, but doesn’t look away from the Jedi. “Not intruding, sirs,” Cody manages, voice thick as he’s breathing a little too hard for that to be believable.

Sass looks over at Murder, who does a head bobble of a nod. Yes, this is what it looks like. Sass lets out a needy little whine, barely audible and all his twin would ever allow himself.

Chain of command. War to win.

Rex’s voice breaks the brittle silence. “Generals?” When they both look at him, he’s still blushing, but not avoiding their eyes. “I…hope I’m not out of line, but…would I be correct in thinking that there might not be an objection to us expressing…interest?”

Murder can see his twin bite back another needy noise. If Sass is that tongue tied, then they have definitely been too long without hooking up with someone. So it might be stupid – no, it _is_ stupid, but gods, this is war and if they’re ignoring their padawan forming some kind of lifebond with a _senator_ , then perhaps they shouldn’t be quite so hypocritical. So he decides that if this land mine is sitting there, he might as well step on it. “Expressing interest?” he asks, voice a little too innocent.

Rex and Cody shoot a look at each other, then pull apart. They’re watching the twins closely, approaching them – Cody aiming for Murder, Rex for Sass. The commander grins, pretending just as much as they are to be casual. “Well, we were just discussing certain things.”

“Such as?”

The clones stop at the same time with a synchronicity Murder just doesn’t see outside of battle with the soldiers, or with his twin. Cody doesn’t look away from his eyes, though there’s the burn of a blush high in his cheeks. Then Cody’s hand is warm, alighting on the belt to his tunics. When Murder can’t keep the heat and interest off his face, Cody carefully slides his hand up, past a layer of cloth. His lips curl into something akin to a smirk, almost hiding nerves that are obvious in the Force. Nerves, and desire. “Such as – ” Cody leans in, tilting his head until his lips are almost brushing Murder’s own. “ –how you taste.” Murder can see how Rex has the same position with Sass, and he has to swallow. “Do you object, sir?”

“Only to you calling me sir.” Murder’s incredibly hoarse, but he doesn’t care. “Cody – Rex – ” Gods take it, he’s groping for words because this is important, but he’s never quite managed the trick of finding the best way to slot them into place.

Sass’ voice is a relief. “Only if this is your choice. Always, only if it’s your choice.” He can hear his twin swallow, see out of the corner of his eye how Rex has that little grin as Sass is almost speaking into his mouth. “No orders, no repercussions for any bedroom activity. We’re not generals when we’re intimate.”

“Unless that’s your thing,” Murder adds, because he knows it can be a kink for some people and he doesn’t want to limit them.

Cody’s chuckle is rich and warm, then followed by a slow, deep kiss that almost obscures the deft way he’s undoing Murder’s belt. By the time Cody pulls back, Rex is tugging Sass’ trousers down, dropping down in a graceful move. When Murder registers that Cody is doing the same – has done the same, gods how are they that attuned to each other without the Force? – he lets out his own noise of want.

He can tell through the Force bond that Rex begins to suck off Sass as the same time Cody wraps his lips around Murder’s cock. He’d stumble back, except Cody’s also got hands on his hips, steadying him.

For the first time in his life, Murder’s getting a sense of why people think he and Sass moving in sync is quite so fascinating. It’s just what they do, it’s how they are – and now they have these two men moving together, hands on their hips, giving them the hottest synchronized blowjob Murder could imagine.

He hasn’t come that hard, that fast, since he was a teenager.

That Rex and Cody get them to come at about the same time is damned impressive, and he knows that he really ought to wave goodbye to the regs. Cody and Rex feel delighted, turned on, and eager for more.

Murder knows he and Sass are pretty much the same.

They are so fucked, and he doesn’t know which way he means that.

* * *

Lots of sex, as it turns out.


	4. Chapter 4

Sass tries to keep the activities with Cody and Rex on the lowdown. It’s an army – he’s pretty damn sure there’s a decent number of brothers that know (and when the hells did he start thinking of the men like that? Gods, this war). Yet if that’s the case, they’re keeping close mouthed, so he just lets it go. 17 is either ignorant, or the fact that he has as much romantic or sexual interest as a brick means he ignores it all as irrelevant.

If the galaxy wasn’t trying to tear itself apart around them, he’d be pretty damn content with his life.

* * *

Jabiim is a whole new slice of hell. Sass butts horns with 17 a lot more, trying to keep that man from going on a merry rampage of death that he’s pretty sure the clone could manage, but would probably harm their efforts in the end.

Though he is tempted to let 17 run amuck, because he’ll never admit it to anyone but his twin: 17 is probably right.

Still. They’re Jedi. They have to try.

The Jedi try.

The Jedi die.

The padawans fall, one after another. Anakin struggles on, and Sass can feel his relief thorough the teaching bond that his masters are some of the most persistent bastards to ever fight for the Order.

It feels like just another battlefield, another fight, when the constant hum of background emotion and occasional thought in Sass’ head goes silent.

For a moment, he stands stock still, shock making his lightsaber waver and several blaster bolts singe his robes.

He’s screaming as Cody knocks him to the ground.

* * *

Sass comes to onboard the cruiser. He’s shaking and can’t seem to stop. Rex is on the medical bed next to him, down to his blacks and grief heavy on his shoulders.

Silence thunders through his mind, where his twin should be.

Sass lets out a sound of absolute horror before curling up around the clone, soaking those broad shoulders with tears that do nothing but leave him feeling even more hollow.

* * *

Sass is hiding behind a facade of numbness that he suspects is just shock. The situation reports are horrific. The planet is a loss. He and Anakin are the only surviving Jedi. The 501st and the 212th are battered down to half strength at best, and that’s only if push comes to shove and the wounded are willing to bleed out in some last stand defense.

The ARCs are down to about quarter strength. 17 died with Murder. An exploding walker. Not really enough left to identify, but that would still require them to go back to that pit.

He takes the data. Makes his report to the Council.

Shambles to his quarters. He’s slow to sit down on the bed, even though he feels wrung out a dozen times over.

His quarters are no different from any other officer’s. For all its tiny size, it has never been his alone.

Sass isn’t sure how long he’s been sitting there when Cody and Rex let themselves in. Cody sheds his armor while Rex, still in blacks, helps Sass strip down to his shorts.

‘Helps.’ No, he does it all, and Sass doesn’t fight him.

Rex drops down onto the bunk, scooting back to the wall. He still has Sass’ hand, and he tugs the unresisting Jedi to him. Cody comes in behind him, so that Sass is nestled up, face buried in the crook of Rex’s shoulder while Cody wraps around him, hands settling gently on Rex’s arms.

It’s not that he falls asleep, so much as he goes unconscious again.

* * *

The cruiser limps on to the next battlefield, and its crew tries to pull itself together.

Sass…doesn’t quite manage. Oh, he Generals adequately, but he can’t…seem to care. He’s still got some ARCs, and Gregor – just fresh promoted to Captain and so visibly unsure of how the fuck he can replace Alpha 17 – does a commendable job keeping them in line.

He doesn’t want to admit he’s now the General for the 212th, though.

There’s so many things he doesn’t want to admit.

Rex is gentle but stern when he finally coaxes Sass to explain some of it. It’s distressing, really, how the clones have been so thoroughly trained in survivors’ guilt, and how to deal with it, when the Jedi…are not.

Doesn’t change that it’s still Sass’ fault. With the 212th grounded, Murder was in charge of the ground heavy vehicles. Sass had had yet another disagreement with 17 about how they should be dealing with the locals, and in a frustrated attempt to give the man an achievable – non-suicidal, gods – goal, he’d sent them both off to take several key locations, maybe push Ventress’ forces back on one of the fronts.

Sass sent his brother to his death. Killed 17 with his own damn orders.

It takes Cody chewing him out for risking them all, no matter how well the bone-headed maneuvers might have turned out in the end, to change matters. He’s not – he’s not actively suicidal, not when Anakin’s presence is still in his mind, keeping him almost sane. He has a promise to carry through, he told Qui-Gon he would see that boy a Jedi and he can’t knight the almost as distraught Padawan if he’s dead. He knows this.

It doesn’t change how the silence in his mind is driving him slowly mad.

He doesn’t talk to Cody or Rex about it. He and Anakin tentatively cover it, neither sure of what the fuck is going on, what to believe.

It helps that someone else can’t accept Murder’s death.

* * *

One week turns into two. Starts to bleed into three. More battlefields, more stalemates. More deaths.

Sass still can’t quite believe. He knows what the silence in his head means, because neither Kenobi knows how to keep their mental mouth shut when it comes to their twin. They tease each other, make the emotional equivalent of wry commentary that by this point is almost as good as words. There is always the reassurance of the twin at the other end of the bond.

Sass remembers Qui-Gon’s death. The feel when Qui-Gon was stabbed, like a mental rock cascading down a mountain, bringing the entire cliff face that had been their teaching bond down.

Inevitable. Relentless. _Breaking_.

With Qui-Gon’s last breath, the bond had shattered. Not an explosion, no more than a dropped glass is. Just…falling apart.

His connection with Murder just went _silent_. There, then gone. Somehow it feels like if the bond had shattered, he could _do_ something with that. Pick up the pieces, stitch together something pretending to be whole, and keep doing what the universe needs from him.

But to have it just…cut off like that, no remnants, no body –

He feels like a ghost.

* * *

Cody and Rex are there in the nights, bracketing him, while Sass clings to them. There’s still odd cold spots at night, even with the commanders right there. It’s just not the same as his twin at his back or draped all over him or snoring that annoying way in his ear. Worst of all his mind is too silent without the faint noises of a dreaming twin there.

* * *

When the silence breaks, it’s a scream. It’s a flicker, a section in the middle of a long, drawn out scream that is snuffed out again in the matter of moments, but it wakes Sass. Leaves him falling out of the bunk, shoving past Rex who already has a pistol in one hand while Cody’s got a small blaster and a vibroblade in the other hand. Sass has to throw up his small evening meal in the ‘fresher, but by the time he’s done with the dry heaves Anakin is pounding on the door. A gesture and a bit of the Force, and the door slides open. Anakin is so distraught he doesn’t even register Cody or Rex, just hauls into the ‘fresher to cling to Sass like the boy’s still the child fresh from Tatooine.

“I heard him, Master, I heard him!”

“I know, I did too, _we will find him_ , I know!”

By the time they’re calm enough to stop bawling, Cody and Rex have discreetly cleared out. Sass is pretty sure Anakin didn’t even realize they were there to begin with. It’s more than fine, and Sass doesn’t intend to sleep more that night anyways.

* * *

The silence breaks again after they’re out of hyperspace, but before the actual Rattatak offensive. This time it breaks with a howl, somewhere between venting rage and calling victory. It’s loud, it sends Sass to his knees, and he’s crying and not giving any damns. Anakin leads an icy calm air strike, while Sass is at the head of the 212 charging into a smoking, half-wrecked facility.

He lets the men tear down the rest, led by a viciously happy 17. He’s too busy hugging his too-thin twin. He can feel new scars, Murder’s mind is harsh and pained and trying so hard to avoid memories of deprivation and torture, but _his twin is alive_.

The healers are practically screaming at them when they get back to the Negotiator, but bless all the gods the healers can be taught. They never once try to get Sass away from Murder, though they do boss him around to _move_ to get to all the wounds.

* * *

Anakin turns out to have been the officer authorizing Rex taking Sass’s ARCs as a strike team. Anakin makes them bring Ventress’ lightsabers to him and Murder, and Rex stands at attention near the back, taking responsibility but radiating a hint of sheepishness.

No guilt.

Sass thanks and dismisses the ARCs, then looks at Rex, who is still at parade rest. Murder is on the bunk, wrapped in blankets, and he is the first to speak.

“I’m rather surprised you didn’t bring me her head on a stick.”

“No good sized sticks anywhere on planet, and it wasn’t available anyways, sir.”

“Oh?”

“Snipers, sir.”

Murder rolls his eyes, and the Jedi formality melts into a shadow of the humor he usually has. “I’m not angry, Rex. You can stop with the sirs and shit if you want.”

There’s the faintest hint of a grin on Rex’s face, but relief and joy sing in the Captain’s mind. “That’s not permission to be at ease, sir.”

“Damn right it’s not,” Murder grumbles, scooching a little further closer to the wall – not that he was far from it to begin with. “Wouldn’t object to cuddles, though.”

Rex is grinning, then, and he steps over to join Murder on the bunk.

Sass has a strange moment, first making eye contact with his twin, then Rex. The first gives a tiny nod, exhausted and encouraging him to take care of their padawan. The latter is a promise, that Sass will return to a living, real twin.

He needs both.

Anakin is meditating in his quarters, unsurprised when Sass comes in. Sass sits down on the floor with him, silently placing Ventress’ lightsabers between them.

Anakin meets his eyes, and it’s shocking how much Sass can see and feel the same that came from Rex. This was Anakin’s decision. He owns it, is not defiant, is prepared for whatever will come from this.

The stubbornness is all Anakin, though. There’s a hint of fire in his eyes, but not…rage.

Sass needs to ask anyways. “Revenge, padawan?”

“No more than anything else in this war is. She was a _danger_ , she is a military leader who needed to be stopped, and she just took out one of our major military leaders for almost a month. She. Had. To. Be. Stopped. Master.”

Sass looks at him, waits. Measures.

Anakin holds his eyes.

_Well I’ll be damned_. Sass reaches out and snags his padawan by the shoulder, pulling him close in a one-armed not-really-a-hug. He lightly rests his forehead against Anakin’s, and it takes a ridiculous amount of effort to not bawl. “Thank you,” he finally manages. Anakin is blinking at him, confused beyond words. Probably thought he’d be booted out of the Order, or perhaps reprimanded to the maximum extent possible. “You mean that,” Sass whispers. “It wasn’t Dark. Wasn’t revenge.”

“You taught me better than that?” Anakin says, confusion bouncing around through the room.

Sass chokes off a laugh, because he knows himself too well. He _would_ have done anything in revenge. Even if it were just to spit in that woman’s damned face, he’d do whatever he could to _hurt_ her.

Anakin doesn’t seem to realize what he’s done for both his masters.

“Well done, padawan.” Sass needs a moment to compose himself, his hand sliding up to gently ruffle Anakin’s hair in a way he hasn’t for quite some time.

He’s getting quite the confounded look when he straightens. Sass keeps his smile small – not difficult, because…it hurts. A good hurt, but still. He bows, formal as he can given how they’re seated. “Murder was discussing this with me in the infirmary. We should both be present for any official folderol, but well done, Knight Skywalker.”

Anakin stares at him, eyes going wider and wider as the words sink in. “Are – but – Really?”

“Of course. You did very, very well today, padawan. Not to mention keeping it together better than your ridiculous master these last few weeks.”

Anakin nearly tackles him in a hug, clinging tight and shaking as Sass hugs back. “I knew he couldn’t be dead.” The words are muffled into Sass’ robes, and he lets himself cry in relief he hasn’t allowed himself.

His padawan has indeed grown up, and it is strange, how comforting it is to be held by his student, instead of the other way around.

He remembers long, cold nights when the desert-born child couldn’t stop crying, until one or both twins would come and cuddle up with him.

How far they have all come.


	5. Chapter 5

Murder’s recovery goes by quick enough, and the entire command crew pitches in to make things easier. Sass manages to get Bant onboard the cruiser for a week and change through a mix of bribes and a touch of blackmail, because she’s one of the best Healers around – and moreover, a skilled mind healer. As a bonus, she’s a friend from the creche, so Murder can’t complain too much, and he actually _listens_ to her.

Bastard sics her on Sass too, though, not that she needed his prompting.

He can tell they’re both better for it, and it’s good to have more friendly faces around, even if she can’t stay for Anakin’s knighting. It takes a lot of work, and some really creative excuses from Rex and Cody to have enough ‘malfunctions’ to get their cruiser to need repairs near enough to Naboo that Padmé can attend – she makes sure to bring along Shmi. They manage to get word to Plo Koon soon enough that he and a squad of soldiers show up, so it’s a clean sweep of important persons.

Barring the one, of course. Plo stands behind the twins as they solemnly cut Anakin’s braid, but Qui-Gon had size and presence enough to overshadow many beings.

It’s more than possible that Anakin senses how the twins feel about the whole mess, no matter how much they try to shield. All of it reminds them far too sharply of the missing Qui-Gon, and their own horrible ceremony. He hesitates upon taking the braid from their hands, shooting them a look that they at least can see is uncertain and cautious. He straightens his shoulders and gives them a low bow, then turns to repeat the gesture to his mother as he presents the braid to her.

Honestly, it’s a relief.

* * *

Sass and Murder are up late, ducking out of the quiet party so Anakin has a chance to make out with Padmé without embarrassing everyone by trying to hide it from his masters. Plo and his commander Wolffe join them, Rex, and Cody in one of the small meeting rooms near the bridge to talk. Matters range from starfighters to weird cultural quirks and anywhere in between, so long as it’s not about the war. It’s a pleasant evening, and when the little gathering splits up, Rex and Cody end up ambling after the twins.

It’s not a cover; their quarters are in the same Officers’ area that the twins’ is.

Murder can feel the hint of sexual tension in the air. He’s been strictly cuddles only since his rescue, and while he appreciates the opportunity to find his feet again he really, really could use a good fuck. He’s got actual tension riding hard on his shoulders, and he’s really started to crave a touch that isn’t just gentle as a balm for all the abuse and torture he survived.

As tempted as he is to snag Rex or Cody and just fuck up against a wall, he wants more than that. He wants the security of privacy, and the opportunity to prove to himself that he’s got his control and precision back. He’s the one stopping at the door, glancing at Rex and Cody. All it _really_ takes is a raised brow; Murder just adds in a little caress to the cheek via the Force to make his question clear. Rex’s smirk is unexpectedly sweet, while Cody is rolling his eyes a little as he herds everyone into the room.

Bastards are trying to tag team him slow and sensual as Sass is locking the door, and Murder decides he’s had quite enough. “No.” He’s firm, but quiet, and the clones immediately disengage, pulling back and looking all concerned. Murder can’t stop a small, apologetic quirk of a grin. “Either someone is fucking me against an unusual flat surface, hard and filthy as possible, or we’re doing that thing we were contemplating.” He shoots a look at Sass, who’s a hair blank until Murder sends him a mental nudge. Before – before things went to shit, before Rattatak, the twins had been speculating potential interesting shenanigans, and Murder is in the mood to set an unusual pace.

Sass looks like he’s caught between enthusiastic agreement and wanting to smack Murder upside the head – Murder is far more interested in the heat and arousal flooding into their mental bond.

Rex and Cody share a look, conversing silently yet somehow not through the Force. Murder’s been fascinated by that skill since he first saw them do it, though he’s yet to figure out _how_ they do it. Then Cody nods, slow but not hesitant. “What exactly were you considering?”

Oooh, yes. Sass unintentionally conveys a blast of arousal across their bond, and Murder finds it wonderful how easy it is to grin.

He’s missed this. Murder steps forward, his twin mirroring him. “Just follow our lead.”

He enjoys jumping Cody when he can. It’s just something about telling the chain of command to go fuck itself that is fascinating, and it’s always delightful to find that gleam in Cody’s eyes that shows the troublemaker underneath the facade of The Perfect Commander. Oh, they watch their behavior outside of the bedroom, but when there, Murder has a particular fondness for starting with his Commander.

Murder and Sass maneuver their partners to opposing sides of the room, a quick Force push getting the room’s two chairs facing each other. By the time everyone is naked, they’re at least half hard and positioned before the chairs. Rex and Cody have been facing the bunks, not each other, while the twins move around them.

For all that, Murder savors how the two are so much in sync.

The twins settle into the chairs, sharing a quick smirk past the clones’ hips before they pull Cody and Rex forward. Murder angles Cody a little so the man straddles his legs, then pulls him almost close enough to blow. He takes his sweet time playing with Cody, hands roaming everywhere he can reach while teasing little kisses, licks, and nips never make contact with the Commander’s cock. Murder keeps a subtle eye on how Sass does the same – almost the _exact_ same – to Rex. The major difference is that the twins Force lift a container of oil between them, so exactly which clone is getting teased open tends to alternate. When Rex is cursing out Sass in that damned husky tone he gets, and Cody leans down to inform Murder in lurid detail how he’s liable to come all over his General, the twins gently push their partners back far enough to turn around and face the other pair.

Rex’s brows go up in surprise when he sees that Cody is arranged the same way he is. Murder can’t see Cody’s face, but he can feel the sensual curiosity as the twins both bring their right hand around to start working slick fingers along cocks before pulling their clones back. Cody lets out a sensual noise as he braces himself against Murder’s shoulder, the noise becoming obscene and loud as Murder nuzzles along his hip, hand slowing to let his Commander ease back from the edge before he comes.

They tease their clones along several times, never quite to the point of release, until even Cody is starting to swear in several languages Murder didn’t know he understood. That’s when the twins shift, and Murder tugs Cody down, guiding him via the Force and hand on his cock. Bastard lets out a noise and shifts just right to wring an echoing noise from Murder as Cody eases down onto him.

For a moment, there’s an imperfect mirror image across the room, Sass in his chair and Rex on his cock. The Captain’s head is lolled back against Sass’ shoulder, and Murder can see his twin shivering at the husky mutter of profanity against his cheek.

Murder has never quite figured out how Rex manages to hit just the right tone to his voice that he can say literally anything, and it sounds sensual and like an invitation to fuck long and hard. Having that breathed against the ear while in him to the root? Gods.

He can feel Cody’s chuckle through his entire body, the Commander arcing back a little to mimic Rex’s pose and nuzzle Murder so that scar of his rasps against the Jedi’s cheek.

The twins don’t consult; they start moving their hands at the same time. One slow and steady to jack their clones off, the other roaming, teasing along muscles, keeping the men gently pinned, or using the Force to oh-so-slowly lift and lower them to fuck just enough to tease.

Rex and Cody come at the same time, Cody with a stifled shout, Rex’s cursing collapsing into gibberish that still makes Murder want to fuck even more. The twins give them time to recover, then without any nudging with the Force, Rex and Cody pull themselves together and look up at the same time. Murder meets Rex’s eyes with a wicked grin, and he and Sass – eyes locked with Cody – declare, “My turn now.”

Cody gives a shiver before slowly standing, moving off Murder’s prick before grinning at Rex. Those two don’t say anything, but they bump shoulders as they cross the room.

Bastards turn their Jedi’s chairs, so they’re no longer facing each other, then Rex glides down onto Murder. Rex pins him for a moment, his cock starting to go hard between them. Then he leans down, that damned pornographic whisper describing in wonderful detail how Cody fucks himself on Sass. The words mirror Rex’s actions, the sensations through the twin bond. By the time everyone’s come, they’re all a mess.

Murder is almost too exhausted to Force-pull some cloths over to clean up, but as Rex helps him to the bunk and cuddles up with him, he doesn’t try to stop a contented sigh.

Not a moment of lost control, and when Rex and Cody were taking the lead, all he felt was eagerness, pleasure. Joy.

Rattatak can go fuck itself. Murder has many better things to do.

* * *

Yoda seems to think he’s won some sort of moral victory with Anakin’s knighting. There’s an awkward quiet period – quiet from the Council, though sadly not the Seps. The twins find their reports to the Council are met with an almost smug sense of “told you so” that drives Sass up a wall and Murder just finds annoying.

They hear about Depa Billaba third hand, via reports of Republic progress and casualty lists. She wasn’t a close friend, but they were more than passing acquaintances. Murder used to spend time with her bitching about the joys of being a Councilor’s padawan, and he can’t help but feel pangs of grief over yet another friend lost to the war.

Plo eyes them a little too suspiciously when they pass on their condolences, and it takes several rounds of post-com call analysis to figure out it wasn’t disapproval or disbelief. Murder knows his twin can probably feel it, but he doesn’t share his suspicions that the look was speculation.

When he considers that Plo has held his seat for awhile, and that with the war there might be other vacancies before too long, he breaks out in a hell of a sweat. Sass can sweet talk his way around most beings, and Murder grew up seeing Council chicanery first hand, but neither of them really have the temperament to directly contribute in a useful manner. Their now legendary stubbornness regarding Attachment and not getting out of lockstep might be the only blocking item, and Murder finds himself hoping very, very hard that they are still considered too Attached to be proper enough Masters for the responsibility.

When the memo declaring that Luminara Unduli would be taking Master Billaba’s chair, Murder lets out a huge sigh of relief and relaxes for the first time in weeks. It’s so noticeable that Cody demands to know how much of what sedative did the new medical staff give him, because it’s looking like too much.

Murder laughs hard enough to almost injure himself for real, and he’s rather grateful that the Seps launch an attack around that time.

* * *

Yoda promptly sticks his wrinkled green ears so far up his ass that the twins consider it to be a record – not a good thing.

He’s assigning a padawan. He’s assigning a _youngling learner_ to a _war Jedi_ who is immensely active in the _front lines_.

Somehow, Yoda thinks that a padawan will calm Anakin down, make him a little less wild – something which works for all three of them on the battlefield, so what Yoda might be thinking baffles the twins beyond words.

Little green troll gives them barely enough warning to figure out what to do. Sass fumbles the ball, and when Murder finds out that Anakin thought the incoming bundle of trouble was for _them_ , he spends a decent chunk of time mentally yelling at his twin.

On the other hand, it does mean Anakin didn’t have time to entrench behind “no, fuck no, never” in a full fledged panic. He and Tano grate a little at the beginning, but by the time Murder is introduced face to face with her, Anakin is already doing the possessive little strut in the background that means he’s claimed her as _his_.

Murder still takes a few digs at Sass for being a fucking idiot, but they’re not in any position to talk about Attachment And The Evils Thereof, and he’s got a good feeling about Ahsoka Tano. She clicks well with Anakin, sharing some of the fire but having a much more creche-born patience and distance, for a youngling. It seems Yoda didn’t instigate an utter disaster, which the twins are grateful for.

* * *

Within a week, that good feeling is confirmed. Ahsoka is looking to be as much a firebrand as her master and at least the two prior generations, but the twins figure that should be revenge enough on Yoda, and they don’t complain about the Council pulling shit they really should know better than to do.

The twins think Ahsoka is adorable. When they’re a little too gleeful about Yoda’s comeuppance and what they think of Ahsoka, Rex sideeyes them for a bit, only to pull them aside later in private. It takes Sass awhile to realize the Captain is asking their intentions, and he’s caught between laughter at something that absurd and indignant astonishment. “Rex! She’s _fourteen!_ Even if she wasn’t, she’s Anakin’s student, and how many levels of ‘this is horrible!’ do you want?”

Rex looks back and forth between them, and even with his bucket on his incredulity is easy to see. “Fourteen,” he repeats, and at their looks he sighs, bucket tilting a little in a way Sass thinks Rex means as rolling his eyes. “You do remember Cody and I are eleven, right?”

…They do tend to forget. Point made, and apparently satisfied that while they might enjoy their fun they’re not horribly perverted, Rex nods at them and walks off.

That is a night the twins are particularly careful with their lovers, setting aside their usual shenanigans and competitiveness to instead make it about the clones. They take their time worshipping Cody and Rex, going for every kink and sweet spot they know of to try to give those men the best possible time they know how. They exhaust their clones, and when Cody and Rex fall asleep bracketed between the twins, the Jedi share a look. They don’t need any telepathy to communicate the care, the concern they have.

Rex and Cody are good men. Brilliant soldiers.

Artificially created lifeforms, brought into being for the sole purpose to fight and die for the Republic.

If that’s not something the Jedi should be fighting to rectify, then what the hells are they doing?

Given the Council’s increasing eccentricities, they don’t have any good answers.


	6. Chapter 6

The twins are busy getting the men accustomed to the new Phase II armor and a brand new battle cruiser – thanks to Grievous – when they hear Plo’s deployed to Umbara. Murder takes the time to send his Master a quick holo of encouragement – they’ve heard what a nasty little hell hole that is.

They have to have passed Plo’s backup on his way to the Umbaran system as they obey politics, taking their shakedown cruise hustling back to Coruscant so Palpatine can once again make nice with Anakin, and Sass and Murder can pretend not to notice Anakin and Padmé. If it wasn’t so damn cute, it’d be hilarious to the point of annoying how Anakin thinks he’s pulled a fast one on his masters.

Murder is the first to be distracted, feeling unease creep through the Force from Plo.

It grows bad enough that Sass stalks around with a perpetual scowl for a week, since it manifests as a headache for him.

A blast of fury wakes Murder in the night. He keeps his astonishment down to a sharp inhale that isn’t quite a gasp, but it’s enough to wake Rex. Cody’s off with Sass who was too restless to sleep, and Murder can already feel a questioning mental touch from his twin.

A worried Rex pulls him close, and all Murder knows is that his master is in danger, and Plo is an emotional wreck. Not Fallen, but full of righteous anger, backbreaking grief, and stubborn determination.

* * *

Cody’s the one to get the details. He drags Sass back to the Temple, practically shoves him into the twins’ quarters, and then marches over to GAR headquarters to throw around his weight a little. With the Kenobis’ reputation, as well as his own, he has his own little corner carved out of the offices there within minutes.

It’s midmorning on Coruscant before the battle reports come in. Sass and Murder have their hands on classified information meant only for the Council barely half an hour later.

They know Pong Krell. A driven man, a talented man. He’d been an assistant trainer for many of the advanced lightsaber classes, what with his specialized fighting style.

Plo is a deliberate General, precise with an odd flair for creativity and brutal precision with air support. The report makes clear he hadn’t liked Krell’s high-handed, blunt force waste of life in straightforward attacks. Plo had thought Commander Wolffe would be a good voice of reason to restrain the negative side to Krell’s tactics.

The loss of life had been horrific even with Wolffe’s clever approaches in blatant disregard of Krell’s unchanged style. The mess had culminated in a firefight outside of the Umbaran capital between  members of the 104th and Mace’s 91st Reconnaissance, on loan to Plo in an attempt to take the damn planet.

Mace’s commander Ponds was dead from friendly fire, along with much of the elite Lightning Squadron.

Wolffe had demanded Plo’s presence, then led a mutiny against Krell while waiting for the Jedi Councilor to arrive. Plo is in critical shape, having had his antiox mask ripped free and destroyed in the middle of a lightsaber battle – saved only by the fact that his Wolfpack carries multiple emergency masks.

Wolffe lost an eye, and might be down an arm, depending on how the bacta treatment goes. Warthog, never quite as adept on the ground as in the air, had still had his Jedi’s back, but he’s now up for replacement legs.

Krell is now scattered across the Umbaran landscape, the Republic has the capital, and the Jedi Order is starting to murmur about the cracks showing in the veneer of their solidarity.

Sass and Murder keep their worries to themselves, even as they fret over their Master’s bedside in Medical. He teases them in a voice hoarser, harsher from toxic air tearing into his throat. For all his good humor, they can tell his breathing is slower, more labored, and they watch him just as closely as Wolffe in the next bed over, his new cybernetic eye locked on his Jedi. The bed past that has Warthog covering for Wolffe’s unsociability, joking that between them there’s at least one whole being.

* * *

As the war progresses, the Council continues to lose their gods damned collective mind. It finally peaks when Sass and Murder are called in, and informed one of them is going to be declared dead. Murder is too busy gaping, sputtering over words that won’t actually come out coherently. It explains why Plo looked almost pissed enough to take off his mask just to bite someone when they came in, but Murder can still see the defensive hunch to the Kel Dor’s shoulders. Master Plo had to have fought this stupidity, but he’s been a touch hesitant after Umbara and it looks like he was solidly outvoted.

Sass saves them all, by crossing his arms, giving the Council the stink-eye, and drawling, “With all due respect, I’ve heard some spectacular plans from this august body, but none are quite so monumentally _stupid_.”

Even Murder stares at him for that. It’s true, and it’s clear that damn little respect is due, but you don’t just _say_ that, and certainly not to the Council’s faces.

Before any Council members can collect their wits, Sass continues. “Why the fuck are you ignoring there’s two of us, and we’re _identical_ twins? One of us goes undercover. The other can cover for him. A little haircut and we’ll be difficult to pick out up close, never mind from a distance, and it would hardly be the first time we’ve passed as each other. For that matter, you claim you have the tech – which sounds like it’s from the darker side of the Black Market, might I add – to disguise one of us as this Hardeen person. Fine. We’re roughly the same size and build as many of the clones, and I’ve seen several of them do scathing impersonations of us both. Share that tech with one of them that could – ”

“We only have the one set,” Mace manages in a strangled tone that is a delight to hear.

Sass rolls his eyes. “Fine. Back to the first plan then. I’ll go undercover – ”

# _Excuse you?_ # Murder squawks mentally even as his brother keeps talking. # _The fuck is this?_ #

# _The fuck do you THINK this is?_ # The two have long practice holding multiple conversations at once, and it sounds as if Sass has already prepared some of his arguments. There’s the thrum of determination in his mind, _certainty_ about what he’d decided, that Murder doesn’t like. He’s not reassured by the mental sensation mimicking Sass’ hand on the back of his neck and their foreheads touching. # _The last two times we split up for major missions, you’ve gotten captured and tortured. NO._ #

He’s somewhat touched, and somewhat pissed. He goes for the low blow. # _As compared to the time before that, when I was stuck in a star fighter and you and Qui –_ #

# _I’m doing this, Murder._ # It’s a quiet declaration, and so rock solid it might as well be kilometers of duracrete. # _I’m not getting stuck twiddling my thumbs while you get caught and tortured again. I’m just not. I can’t do that._ #

…fuck.

* * *

Quinlan Vos thinks it’s hilarious to volunteer as Rako Hardeen’s “victim.” He’s been looking for a good way to drop out of sight and go undercover again, and Sass and Murder only regret that this is probably just encouraging his more reckless behavior.

It hurts, though: Murder is pretending to be Sass already, reviewing the troops, when the news comes in. Casualty report. Another Jedi down. There’s a new manhunt taking place on Coruscant, for the bounty hunter Rako Hardeen.

The flimsi photo of Quinlan, chest armor still smoking and his face stilled in a grimace – gods, it hurts.

Nightmares interrupt Murder’s rest for over a week, the images of his twin’s body smoking and twitching its last from all sorts of wounds.

Rex and Cody get used to him bolting out of bed to vomit in the ‘fresher.

* * *

It’s a long mission, over three weeks. Murder gets regular updates from his brother, even if due to distance it’s just emotional impressions. Sass feels stressed, but confident. News filters in from infrequent reports that Plo finds ways to pass on to them – anything from “casually” running into Anakin as the two just happen to be working on their star fighters at the same time, to Plo requesting Ahsoka visit him for tea.

It’s nice to know that Plo’s accepted their whole lineage is horribly compromised and will Attach their damn selves to whoever they please.

The rest of the Council can go fuck themselves, though.

* * *

It takes Murder three days before he realizes he’s not really made for this shit. He has a begrudging respect for his twin’s ability to put up with this – _twice_ – because the only reason he isn’t climbing the walls is that he has to regularly swap cloaks and lightsabers and be seen by people.

Rex might be busy helping Anakin, who needs the emotional support more than Murder does, but Murder has more reason than normal to be hanging around Cody.

He can’t recall the last time he’s gotten this many emergency blowjobs, which is still a stupid thing to call “fucking before you have an aneurysm,” which is _also_ an incredibly stupid thing to say. But Cody’s an asshole who knows that if he can distract his General long enough with bitching about moronic language, his General won’t be missing his twin quite so much.

* * *

The worst part is that he has to be seen in public, as both himself and his brother. Murder tackles an absurd amount of mindless errands and actual necessary tasks that they’ve been putting off. He has to stop all the damn time to swap cloaks and lightsabers, muss or straighten his hair, and remind himself to move with Sass’ more measured pace and the touch of hauteur.

It’s such a pain in the ass.

He’s trying to get out of the Senate building during the lunch rush, dodging between aides, delivery beings, and droids of all sorts when he hears a familiar voice.

“Master Murder?”

By all the gods that ever existed, he has to grip his lightsaber to figure out who he’s supposed to be. It’s actually his, which is good. He plasters a smile he doesn’t feel onto his face, and turns to bow low to Senator Chuchi. “Senator! It’s been far too long.”

She’s got the little speculative frown that means he’s not hiding what he feels nearly well enough, but she’s a damned good politician. “It has indeed,” she declares with a warm smile. “I was hoping I might see a Jedi I could ask some questions of. Would you be willing to spare some time to discuss the war? I’m on the committee –”

He’s already holding up a hand because he doesn’t want to know, and he can tell it’s a cover anyways – though she probably is on some committee related to the war progress. He can’t imagine any of the Senators _not_ being on at least one. “Of course, Senator.” Murder bows low and gestures her ahead of him.  

Chuchi keeps up a polite trail of chatter and empty conversation until they’re in her private office of the Pantoran suite. Riyo drops the “conversation” mid-sentence to give Murder a narrow-eyed look. “What’s wrong?”

He flops down onto the guest chair that is comfortable and not one of the handful facing her desk. “I can’t tell you,” he declares, and she rolls her eyes. She spouts off a polite stream of embarrassed apologies that when she works to look her most innocent is actually believable – but she’s making faces at him and making it clear she knows how absurd it all is.

She’s also damned good, and finishes the last honeyed bit of empty grumbling as she starts a scrambler that should block any recording devices. Only fools think that Riyo Chuchi is as delicate and girlish as she looks. With her arms crossed and an even meaner glare for him, Murder can’t even begin to figure out how _anyone_ could think that.

“Murder Kenobi, what is going on? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you _mope_ before.”

That surprises a chuckle out of him. “I’m not – I don’t _think_ I’m moping.” An arched eyebrow leaves him shrugging. “Did you hear the recent news about Quinlan?”

Riyo shakes her head, looking genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry, but –”

“Vos. Quinlan Vos. He’s one of our agemates.”

One of his two favorite senators gives him a politely blank look, her brow furrowing, only for the expression to slip into shocked apology. “Oh, Force. The Jedi – the one who was shot here a few days ago –”

He holds up a hand before she thinks she’s genuinely given offense. “He’s fine – it’s a ruse. Sass is posing as his killer, for reasons I really can’t tell you.”

Her hands fly up to cover her mouth, and the wide-eyed, wounded nerf look hurts a little. “Oh gods. Are _you_ two well?”

He’s never wanted to make some kind of life bond with her, but things like this remind Murder why they love Riyo Chuchi quite so much. “Well enough. Sass is off pretending to be a blood-thirsty, amoral bounty hunter, while I’m stuck pretending to be him _and_ me.”

She keeps staring at him, but her hands drop back down. “Force. You have to be running around like a headless rancor.”

The noise Murder makes isn’t quite a snicker, but it’s more than a little wry for a snort of amusement. “Quaint, and thank you for that mental image. Anyway, I’d take that over sitting and twiddling my thumbs.”

“Ooh.” She has a sympathetic look as she curls up onto the settee that has seen enough action from Riyo and the twins that they know it’s the sturdiest piece of furniture in the whole office. “You’ve been having a rough time of it, then?”

Murder sighs and scrubs his face. “Very.” His hands drop and hang loose, elbows braced on legs and body slumping. It takes him awhile to speak. “I’m not used to being helpless.” He keeps his voice soft enough to pretend she can’t hear him. “Once. Just…the once.”

Riyo grabs him by his sleeve and tugs him over to sit next to her. They cuddle for awhile, and Murder is grateful for the silence. It’s not like there’s much to say about the mess anyways.

He’s the first to sit up, stretching with a regretful sigh. “I ought to go. Be seen out and about as Sass.”

“Stop back for a late dinner,” she says, impulsive as she pats his arm. Riyo gives him that grin which is too mischievous to be sweet. “I’ve a dinner meeting with Bail Organa that always runs late, and he seems to enjoy your company.”

Murder is good enough at covering his ass that he manages to accept – more from confused shock than anything else – without asking if she knows that Bail and the twins have a similar arrangement that they have with her. Before he can come up with a polite and obscure way to try to pry the information out, Riyo gives him the full bore dimples. “Perhaps you’d like to drag a friend along? One of the charming officers I met on Orto Plutonia?”

Sass is named that for a reason. Murder speaks before he can quite think the implications through. “Captain Rex is out with General Skywalker relieving stress by blowing up as many Sep outposts along the Rim that they can find, and ARC Troopers Fives and Echo are on assignment elsewhere.”

Riyo flaps a hand at him, not seeming to care one whit. “Bring someone. It’s possible Senator Amidala will be stopping by as well, and more people to make conversation always helps. Also more perspectives make things more interesting.”

Well. All right then. Padmé’s presence means it really is just a social thing. Good.

* * *

Cody pretends to grumble, but comes along with so long as he doesn’t have to trade his armor for dress grays. It’s not like Murder minds, so that goes well.

Matters just go oddly when they arrive to find that Padmé isn’t attending – Murder suspects she might be near the Rim trying not to get into too much trouble, but that’s genuinely a guess. Sabé, however, _is_ attending in her place – not that the disguise fools anyone present. It’s more for political face than anything.

Murder lasts all of seven and a half minutes being surrounded by people he’s had interesting sexual encounters with before he breaks. Somehow he manages to pull Riyo out of the room on polite pretext, and the instant they’re in her office and the door is closed he leans in. “What are you planning?” he hisses, grateful that while he might not have his twin’s way with words, he at least has very good control of his blush reaction.

Fuck. Everything. Riyo stares at him blankly. “What?”

He scrubs a hand over his face. “ _Force._ You really – this is a _coincidence_?”

Murder might be fool enough to not look at Riyo Chuchi, but he can feel her glee in the Force. He looks up to see she’s smirking, giving him an arch look as she opens the door far enough to call into the outer room, “Bail, you owe me twenty credits!”

“I’ll offer you a concession on the Nootra Compromise instead, if you’re willing to throw in an explanation. What?”

Murder glares at the conniving Senator as she sails out into the main area, smug and gracious in the backhanded way only politicians can be. Her explanation is succinct, filthy, and coached in an open offer to the room for the opportunity to “blow off some stress.”

Sabé and Cody spend more time cackling than Murder really appreciates, but Bail is willing to kiss his irritation away while Riyo expresses her apologies with a glorious show featuring Cody and Sabé equally.

The best part, aside from being exhausted enough the next day and a half that he can’t even fret his way through more ridiculous subterfuge, is telling Sass. Murder meets his twin on Naboo with a hug that lifts him off his feet, then after Anakin and Ahsoka both repeat the gesture they suffer through a painful close to the Chancellor’s interrupted speech.

Sass can clearly feel Murder’s amusement the whole damn time, so making him wait until after Medical has reversed the horrible twisting of Sass’ appearance is quite worthwhile.

The process sobers Murder, who has to fight to lock his muscles against the screaming Sass can’t quite stop as the fucking nanotech rearranges his face. They end up cuddled together in their bunk, and as Sass leans in close with a sigh Murder can feel how his twin is relaxing for the first time since they were called into the Council’s chambers.

“What’s so damn funny?” Sass finally grumbles, and Murder grins.

“Did you know Riyo can get the most interesting noises out of Sabé?”

Sass turns enough to stare at him blankly until Murder nudges him with a mental image. Sass’ jaw drops and he punches his twin in the shoulder. “You owe me so much of an explanation!”

He gives visuals, too. So worth it.

* * *

It’s much only later, when Murder is wrapped around his twin in the dark cabin, that Sass pokes the rancor’s nest. They can feel the other is awake, so it’s not much of a surprise when Sass speaks up. “Chancellor didn’t appreciate the rescue disrupting his ceremony.”

“Mm. I think the Council might have done better to tell him what was going on.”

“Would they?”

Murder props himself up on an elbow to look at his twin, who’s still staring at the wall. “What?”

Sass shakes his head. “Who’s in charge here? I mean, can you imagine us fighting the Council’s goals directly?”

“Instead of subverting it, you mean.”

“Mm. And take it even further. Do we Generals have a right to tell our Chancellor he can’t give a speech, for his own safety? Would our Chancellor – leader of the army – have the right to tell the Jedi Council what to do, and how to run the Order?”

Murder shivers, which brings Sass’ eyes away from the wall to him. They both felt it, then. Something twisty and uncomfortable in the Force, not quite strong enough to be a premonition but ugly enough that it’s more than a hunch. “I hope we never have to find out,” Murder whispers, even though they both know that’s not in their future.


	7. Chapter 7

Sass feels that same prickle up his spine not even two months later. He thinks it’s about the battle plans he and Murder are drawing up, not that Anakin and Ahsoka are being recalled to Coruscant to investigate something – he’s a bit busy at the time to really pay any attention.

He starts to worry when he learns someone actually fucking _bombed_ the Force damned _Temple_.

The _only_ reason Sass and Murder are able to keep the 501st, the 212th, and their assorted ARCs from descending en masse on Coruscant is because they need to move _quickly_ , and a star fighter – particularly ones souped up by Anakin Skywalker, Plo Koon, and Murder Kenobi – goes faster than star cruisers. Sass spends the time in hyperspace researching the hell out of the mess he’s learning occurred, while Murder coordinates between a livid Plo and a furious Anakin.

In one of the lulls between com calls, Sass is slumped back in his seat as Murder turns to him. “How’s it look?”

All he can do is snort. “Like someone thought Xanatos had a good idea and then decided to frame Ahsoka for it.”

Murder’s face goes thunderous. He’d been at the Temple when Qui-Gon’s former padawan had thought trying to blow up Yoda and parts of the Temple meant he’d get his hands on some valuables – because Xanatos had been bugshit insane. Plo and Murder had been involved with the investigations, along with Tahl and eventually Qui-Gon and Sass.

It had been a pretty nightmarish fiasco.

Since Murder had been involved from the beginning, he had even more sour feelings about it than Sass did. “That would explain why Master Plo kept dancing around the details. I thought he was just angry.”

“Yes, I saw the holo. I think that’s far past angry. Someone’s pulling this shit again, and his great-grand-padawan is being framed this time. I’m fairly angry myself.”

Murder growls quietly and looks away. “Plan?”

“You and Plo keep the Council from doing anything too stupid. Anakin should find Ahsoka and help her with whatever it is she’s trying to do. If she went to the Lower districts, he should still have a good reputation from the swoop races. Lots of contacts, if we’re lucky, and Dex can help if not. I’ll see about tracking down the perpetrator from some different angles.”

“Why do I get the impossible job?”

“You’re the most likely to keep Plo from bludgeoning Mace with Yoda if things get out of hand.”

“Please,” Murder scoffs, giving him an incredulous look. “If things are that bad, I’ll be helping.”

* * *

By the time they reach Coruscant, things have spiraled out of control. Ahsoka is on the run from the authorities – Wolffe meets them at the landing platform and looks haggard beyond belief. He and some of the 104th had been assigned to hunting Ahsoka before Plo caught wind of matters and threw a righteous snit fit like the haughty, oh-so-proper Jedi Master he could pretend to be.

Wolffe still looked to be bearing far too much guilt for driving Ahsoka – and subsequently Anakin – underground.

Sass tries to ignore that mess as they split up. Time is not on their side, and Ahsoka is his responsibility right now, not Wolffe.

Between Tarkin being a monstrous asshole and the Council’s spinelessness, there’s a farce of a trial going on for Sass’s padawan and grand-padawan by the time he follows a trail of coincidence and emotional kerfluffle in the Force through the Temple.

He honestly does not expect Barriss Offee to draw her lightsaber on him. Not to duel him through the halls. Nor to pull another lightsaber from a passing Jedi and try to Jar’kai him into defeat.

Sass _prefers_ to fight against multiple opponents. It’s painfully obvious that the girl isn’t in her right mind.

They end up facing each other down upon one of the Temple’s higher roofs. Only there, with just them and the wind trying to snatch his words away, does Sass try to talk her down again. It _hurts_ , to see this girl not much older than Ahsoka crumble. She is a strong Jedi, but she is so fucking fragile. Brittle. Coming apart at the seams.

Sass hides deep his intention to verbally flay “Councilor” Unduli, just in case that sets Barriss off as well. He has to mentally order several Guardians away before they screw everything up, coming in lightsabers blazing to do who the fuck knows what.

It takes so damn long to convince Barriss that no matter how broken things are, breaking them further won’t help. She is physically whole when Sass escorts her to the “trial” that Anakin has managed to tangle into helplessly confused knots. Murder wasn’t permitted to speak – nor Plo, for more than a token plea, which is ludicrous – but as one of the accused, Anakin not only stepped up to battle, but it seems he learned more from Sass than either of his masters had expected.

Barriss is physically whole as she admits to her wrongdoing, but Sass has to wonder at the emotional and mental shards the girl has shattered into. He is the loudest voice in the room demanding mind healers, and Tarkin is so visibly flustered at once again being blocked that he almost literally throws his hands up before walking away in disgust, declaring this a “Jedi matter.”

How the _fuck_ it wasn’t a Jedi matter before is quite the question.

Sass connives to have Wolffe take Barriss off to the mind healers – with luck, they’ll sense that he needs their services as well – then meets up with Murder, Plo, Anakin, and Ahsoka in private.

The Council is a mess. Unduli has recused herself, and looks like she might abandon her chair entirely. That earns her Sass’ grudging, grumpy respect – at least a shard of it – particularly since reports have her in the Healer’s Wing from the moment the trial was over.

The fact that the Council allowed Ahsoka’s braid to be taken, was willing to exile her and Anakin from the Order at best, and execution as the most likely worst – Sass is fending off the Dark side by the barest margin.

Plo looks old. Tired. He offers Ahsoka her place back, on behalf of the council – gods, a title that man should never sneer. Anakin makes his opinion clear: she was handling herself just fine, and running an investigation when Anakin showed up. She has earned her Knighthood.

Sass can feel Murder’s disquiet, though his twin doesn’t share his thoughts. Ahsoka looks at all of them, chewing on her lip in thought. Then she turns to Plo. Bows deep.

“Thank you, Master Plo, but I don’t think I can commit myself to the Order again.” Sass tries to cover the emotional gutpunch she just delivered, that he can feel the others hiding shock and grief as well. Then that amazing young woman they’ve helped grow and learn proves once again she’s going to be wiser and better than them all, one of these days. Ahsoka straightens, looks Plo right in the eye. “You all think I’m capable, that if I were to stay I would have earned my Knighthood. I don’t want –” Her voice wobbles a little, but she doesn’t let crying get in the way of what she wants to say. “I don’t want to trust that next time I need the Order – not you, not my family, but the Order – it won’t be there.” She takes another deep, wobbling breath as her teachers compose themselves. “But Master Plo?”

“Yes, Ahsoka?” His voice is deeper than normal, raspier than it has been since just after the Umbara affair.

Their brilliant girl smiles at him. “Are you still looking for an assistant? Because there’s a civilian pilot who’s rather good at her job who’s going to be looking for work soon.”

Sass has never been quite so relieved as he is then, being pulled into a group hug. Oh, there’s plenty of recriminations later. Murder rails at him about the Council’s ineffectiveness, how hamstrung they were by Tarkin – the army. Anakin yells at both of them, wanting answers and reassurance they cannot honestly give. The Order is a mess.

Sass vents by quietly hissing pointed observations at Luminara Unduli when he catches her outside the Healer’s Wing, and he is gratified to learn she will be seeing what she can do to help Barriss – and he can feel genuine remorse and earnestness.

Yet the worst is late at night, curled up with his brother alone in their quarters. The clones are treated as less than people. The Jedi are rapidly becoming the same, with the Council being ineffectual as hell. Sass heard too many whispers during his investigation about how the Senate is becoming more and more hamstrung by the war as well.

They ask each other, but neither has an answer.

Where does it all end?


	8. Chapter 8

Things get worse. Tup snaps in the middle of battle, executing Master Tiplar. Fives takes it badly, requesting the opportunity to investigate the mess. Sass can feel the man’s loss roiling around, looking for some kind of outlet – any kind – and he can only imagine how he would feel were something suspicious to happen to Rex, or Cody. It’s easy to grant him permission to go with Rex, who as Tup’s CO is going to Kamino.

The next Sass hears of it, the clusterfuck blew up. Fives and Tup are dead. Rex is a mess, curling up between Cody and the twins in the quarters at the Temple, full of bitter self-blame and doubt.

‘Good soldiers follow orders.’ It was a terrifying litany, delivered in a hollow tone.

When Rex comes to him and Murder later, asking permission from the highest ranking Generals he can get his hands on for a special investigation, it’s easy. Murder talks to Anakin about letting Rex and a few squads investigate the incident, and he’s amiable.

It’s far harder to see off Rex as a person, but the way he looks – angry to the point of being brittle, determined to the point of obsession –

What else could they do but see him off, as best equipped as possible?

Sass can’t help but resent Appo a little. Rex picked his stand-in – _not_ a replacement! – for military prowess, not personality. Appo treats all three Jedi with cool distance, and it gets bad enough that during Command briefings, Sass can _feel_ Cody rolling his eyes at the younger brother.

They still win battles, though. That’s the important thing.

* * *

Murder can’t figure out if the Council has gone completely round the bend, or if the Chancellor is just that much of an asshole. Anakin _is_ in a rather remarkable position. “The Chosen One.” One of the best damn Generals in the army. Solid strategist, excellent fighter, and an almost unparalleled leader. He has friends – Murder always has to say it with a mental cough and wry turn to the word – in the Senate, leaders of multiple worlds and systems, and he has the ear of the Chancellor.

The Chancellor wants to weight his influence on the Council. The Council wants to keep a closer eye on the Chancellor.

Anakin is placed right in the middle of that tug-of-war, and to add insult to injury, the bastards _still_ dither about granting Anakin his Mastery. For extra salt in the wounds, they debate the merits – ‘Anakin’s lack of demonstrating true mastery’ right there in front of him, _and_ Ahsoka. She remains serene, dressed like a civilian pilot though flaunting her lightsabers. Plo is the center of a growing cloud of righteous indignation, and Murder can only guess what kind of furious conversation is going on between Plo and Ahsoka as they present quite the front.

Murder finally nudges Sass with a mental overview of a plan, and with his twin’s relieved agreement the two step forward. Murder has to work hard to keep up a pleasant expression as Sass waxes flowery about how Anakin can and will do a good job for the Council. Anakin glowers at them, radiating wounded disgruntlement into the Force even as Murder is working frantically to keep Plo from asking what kind of head trauma they’ve taken.

Thank every god that ever existed, Anakin sullens his way through a stiff bow, an utterly unbelievable thanks to the Council, then follows his masters out the door. Sass is presenting as the regal, endlessly poised Jedi Master as he shushes Anakin until they get to the landing platform and the Larty due to take Sass and Murder off to the _Vigilance_ and then Utapau.

“What the _hells_?” Anakin demands when Sass finally turns and gives him an inquiring look. “What was all that poodoo about? You were shoveling it on so thick _Mace_ was this close to gesturing for you to get on with it and while I appreciate the faith in my abilities – ”

“Ani, do you _want_ to spy on anyone, Council _or_ Chancellor?”

His scowl is thunderous, and Murder winces just a little. They’ve all been pushed pretty hard lately, and Anakin thrives under those sorts of conditions – until he just breaks. He’s been having nightmares again, like when Shmi was in danger, and while those abated once she was safe and the war started….

Well. The very fact that Anakin is incredibly vague about otherwise clear and lucid premonitions probably means it involves Padmé, who hasn’t been looking too great either, of late.

“Stupidest question I’ve heard from you in awhile, Master.”

“Well then. How about you tell Appo to get the men moving, and we go see that Grievous gets swatted down one way or another? With both companies tackling those fortifications, we should be able to keep him from getting away again.”

Anakin blinks at Sass for a moment, then turns his incredulous look on Murder. “You planned this,” he states flatly. “All that tripe in the Council’s chambers – ”

“Has them thinking we’ll bow and scrape like good little padawans who are off to war as directed.” Sass rolls his eyes and Murder makes a disgusted face. “In the meantime, we’re making a coordinated push, you’d otherwise be stuck here in the middle of this mess, and it means we can take our sweet time coming back because fuck all those madmen.”

Anakin’s smile is a tired thing, but a relief to see.

* * *

They gather up the troops, Cody more than ready to take the 212 in and tear Grievous to pieces. Appo is snottily prepared to handle the 501, and Murder thankfully finds the 104 contingent assigned to the _Vigilance_ before they leave the system and go into hyper. He doesn’t do more than eyeroll and order Wolffe to get the fuck off the command ship and out to wherever the hells Plo is, accepting the commander’s fierce grin and backslap with a wry smirk. Force, what a clusterfuck. This is getting out of hand, if someone at headquarters is screwing up badly enough to to improperly assign the gods damned _Wolf Pack_ to the 212. This war has gone on too long, and it’s starting to take a serious toll on the command structure.

* * *

At the end of the battle, the Jedi gather to confer, to figure out how to best divide their forces. Cody stands nearby, all but audibly rolling his eyes in disdain at his fucking moronic Jedi. Sass wants to protest – it is _not_ his fault that Grievous nearly broke his fucking hand kicking his lightsaber away, nor is it Murder’s fault that a speeder chase with the fleeing asshole led to a certain Kenobi dangling off ledge while Sass and Anakin caught up. Thank the Force Cody gets a com call, his posture going from ‘you are all lunatics and I am ashamed to be associated with you’ to proper military precision as he turns his back on the generals.

Sass goes still as something clangs in Cody’s mind. Bad news, then. He waits as the commander turns, then something sours in his gut. Cody is looking right at him – except not. There’s a tilt to the bucket, as if Cody were staring _through_ him instead. An expansive gesture from Anakin on some point or another to Murder drags Cody’s visor to the right, and his body language goes even more rigid, even more _wrong_. But he at least seems to _see_ Anakin. Sass doesn’t know what to think as Cody’s head turns, from the twins to Anakin and back again, each little movement seeming to bring him back to reality a little bit more.

Then Cody _screams_ , a loud outraged cry of pain as his knees buckle. He holds up an imperious hand as all three Jedi move to help him, staggering back to his feet for a moment before going back down. He stays on his knees, bringing his wrist com up. He toggles something, and Sass can hear his own com ping. “This is Marshal Commander Cody, CC-2224, ordering a shut down of all incoming communications from off-planet! Repeat, _no_ incoming transmissions outside of this battlegroup all squads acknowledge if you copy!” His voice growls over every com, thick and nasal and injured, but Cody repeats his message, snarling out clearance codes that Sass has no idea the man had.

Sass glances over at his equally mystified brother and student. Cody’s mind is screaming, a mental sound somewhere between a howl of fury and incredible pain, and none of them can figure out what the Seps have done now. It has to be incredible, for it to affect Cody like this, for him to send out a message to go black to the entire battlegroup. For that matter, squad level acknowledgements? That should take fucking hours.

Clone efficiency means the acknowledgements get streamlined up the ranks, company leaders collecting squawks and sending them up the chain. Even as he’s listening to the wave of assent, Cody opens up another channel. Sass gapes as the com officer for the Vigilance brusquely answers, and Cody not only repeats his order to go black, but to send outgoing transmissions demanding all GAR forces in range to do the same.

No incoming messages. Outgoing, only the command to do the same.

When the stream of confirmations ends, Cody slumps over, sagging down before fumbling his helmet off. Murder starts cursing as soon as they can see the clone has a hell of a nosebleed, his eyes bloodshot and wild. This time he doesn’t wave off the Jedi as they rush him, but he grabs Sass’s arm the moment he’s in range. “Good soldiers follow orders,” he gasps, making the three freeze. It’s only that he declares it more as warning than Tup’s horrific, broken rote that keeps Sass from Force-grabbing Cody’s gun to stun him. “Order 66. They’re killing the Jedi.”

It is only then that Sass realizes that in the Force, there is still so much screaming, and Cody is but the nearest.

“No,” Anakin murmurs in a broken whisper, Murder silent as he shakes his head. They can hear, _feel_ thousands of Jedi crying out in horror and pain and _betrayal_ , being cut short again and again. There’s an undercurrent behind it, that feels like the clones and a mix of horror and helplessness, only identifiable as _dark_.

They can feel the Jedi Order being slaughtered. They grab their Commander and run.


	9. Chapter 9

At Cody’s insistence, it’s only him, the three Jedi, and medical droids in a private room aboard _Vigilance_. Sass can appreciate the caution, but he’s worried about Cody.

The results of some extensive exams are terrifying. It’s the same damned chip that got Tup and Fives, but aside from a lingering headache that seems to exist more in the Force than as physical injury, Cody’s showing no signs of going unhinged – well, no more than usual.

The fact that whatever was affecting him didn’t want him killing Anakin is beyond terrifying. Sass can see how much it disturbs Anakin, how it’s already eating away at him, so it is a relief when Murder proposes a plan. Have Anakin record a holo message to broadcast to the troops. Order them to stand down and await further details, from General Skywalker and no one else. No further incoming transmissions, rebroadcast the order to hold.

It also gives Anakin something directed to do. He heads off fast as he can to the bridge, and the moment he’s out of the room Murder has an arm around Cody’s shoulders. Without a General to impress, Cody is already slumping with a noise Sass almost could call a whimper. “Gods.” Cody whispers the oath like it’s the only thing holding him to sanity, turning enough to bury his face into Murder’s tunics. “Gods, I’m so glad he was there. Without him short-circuiting that… _thing_ I have no idea –”

Sass isn’t sure if a sob cuts him off, or it’s Murder shushing him, but either way it makes a connection click.

The Council has been acting increasingly useless, to the point of being counterproductive.

They’ve lost more and more influence over the army.

If what happened to Cody was widespread, all those deaths they can feel –

Much of the Order is gone. They’ve known Sith have been behind matters for years now, and an end to the Jedi Order would be a primary goal.

Secondary goals, though –

Destruction and/or control of the Order. Darkness, as widespread and twisted as possible, and what better torture than forcing _millions_ into betrayal of those they have worked with, befriended, fought beside, _loved_ for years?

And if one had control of a Darkness riddled army, caught up and keening in its grief and wounded fury, then why stop there?

“Palpatine was insisting that Anakin should be on the Council,” Sass whispers, the Force screaming icy shivers down his spine. “Why?” Murder doesn’t answer, beyond the mental feel of questioning.

Anakin. Anakin, the exception, who Palpatine had made friends with, who Palpatine always wanted to talk to, who often came from those conversations quiet to the point of brooding. Anakin, who’d been in tremendous turmoil over the conflicting loyalties and demands placed on him.

Anakin, who so often valued loyalty, _attachments_ , above all else.

Sass staggers back to the nearest chair, not sitting so much as collapsing into it. “Oh, gods, he was never planning on giving back the contingency powers.” When he realizes both his twin and Cody are staring at him, Sass makes himself meet his brother’s eyes. “The Sith Lord.”

Thank the Force, his brother sees it too.

* * *

By the time the cursing is done, Anakin not only made and sent out the message, he’s also gotten them into hyperspace for Coruscant. The twins drag him into one of the smaller ready rooms, because if shit needs to be destroyed then far better that temper be exercised on a contained meeting room than personal quarters or exercise areas. Sass is the one to spell it out, feeling clumsy about his logic and words because he can see and feel Anakin crumpling under the weight of yet another betrayal.

There is neither screaming nor cursing. Anakin ends up with his elbows on his knees, head in hands with a too-tight grip on his hair. The Force is thick with grief, muted anger, and fear. Controlled, but fear nonetheless.

When Anakin finally speaks, it’s not something either twin expects. “He’s always been my friend. Ever since Naboo.” He inhales, breath audibly shaky. “He’s been supportive lately. About – about my dreams.” They can feel Anakin’s fear settle into tentative resolution, deep desire for forgiveness tangled up with resentment. “Only four other people know, but I’ve been pretty sure for years he suspects. I’m married.”

Sass’ jaw drops, and Murder lets out a few impressive Mando’a curses. “When the _fuck_ did you find the – When the hells did _Padmé_ find the time?” Murder yelps, and Anakin’s head jerks up.

“What?”

Sass somehow manages to keep his twin from putting his foot further in his mouth. He stops Murder with a raised hand. “We know you and Padmé are…close. We didn’t realize…just what that entailed, but we’re very happy for you both. But right now I think we need you to actually tell us about those dreams, and not the vague way you’ve been talking around them.”

Anakin looks torn between absolute disbelief and relief, though that quickly drowns back under the fear. “Padmé. In terrible pain, dying in childbirth. The child, too.”

This time, both twins are caught entirely flatfooted. Murder blinks rapidly, struggling to process the words. Sass feels like his head is ringing with blank incomprehension that echoes along the twinbond. “Child?” His voice is a bit higher than usual, and he can’t seem to quite get the numbers and dates to line up in his head. When had – was Anakin saying – It could not possibly be –

Anakin darts a quick glance up at them, and the quirky little grin reminds Sass so much of the impish boy they freed from Tatooine that it physically hurts. “I’m going to be a father.”

Well. So much for subtlety. “Oh,” Sass manages. “Congratulations.”

Anakin’s snicker has a touch of hysteria to it, but Sass figures they’re all entitled to as much hysterics as they want to indulge in for the moment. There’s been too much death – through the war, through the last rotation – and chaos – for so very, very long – to cling too hard to social norms regarding calm, reasonable approaches. “I didn’t think you’d take that well.”

“We really _are_ happy for you both,” Murder huffs, and Sass can feel the question from his twin. Thankfully, they’ve at least prepared for _that_ mess. “Though I sincerely doubt we’re in any position to throw stones.”

Anakin is just giddy enough to raise a brow at them. “And just what Senators have you married?”

Oh thank gods the closest they’ve ever gotten to _that_ mess was an insincere offer from Riyo after they’d introduced her to specialty Ithorian teas that put her caff addiction to rest forever. Sass cleared his throat because Anakin was once again a little too close to the truth, and casual sex with those outside Anakin’s purview was none of his damn business. “I think Cody and Rex are quite complicated enough, thank you. Though it’s not marriage so much as regular, ah, relations.”

Anakin stares. Blinks. Opens his mouth and tries to say a few things before finally managing a weak, flat, “What?”

Murder takes pity on their padawan, and carefully walks him through the fact that his Masters have regular sexual relations with both their commander and his. Sass appreciates it, because his sense of humor really would lead to perhaps somewhat more graphic detail than would be kind, and now is not the time.

When Murder goes quiet, Anakin sits for a few moments, blinking owlishly at them. Then he buries his face in his hands, groaning that Rex deserves a fucking commendation for putting up with them all.

Murder brightens for a moment, because perfect pun, but Sass manages to silence him before Anakin notices, because really, _context_.

* * *

They only have a tentative plan when they come out of hyper in Coruscant space. The Jedi and several squads – several days free of chips without any ill results other than a burning rage at what those chips would have done – take several Lartys down to the planet. Local Space Traffic Control is furious with them, but it’s all threats and bluster, no concentrated weapons fire.

The 212 pilots ignore the paltry defense with professional disdain that is beautiful to see.

The challenge from the Jedi Temple is harsher, an angry clone demanding their identities, and Sass is relieved when Odd Ball snarls back some insults to the com and addresses the clone on the other end by name. Hawk of the 501st – one of the pilots that Rex took with him – turns from angry and defensive to relieved and demanding they come in hot as they can.

The heavy artillery around the Temple is much more accurate, though they come through well enough. It helps that there’s several AT-ATs and smaller walkers at the Temple, providing cover fire.

Rex meets them at the landing bay, leading a squad of 501st, trailing a gaggle of armed and grim-faced padawans.

Every clone, from Rex to the fresh-faced shinies in unmarked whites, has a suture scar on their temple.

* * *

Rex takes them to the Council chambers, reassuring with some details and disturbing in the way he avoids several topics. He and his troops had gone back to Kamino, looking for details about Fives’ death and the chips.

The Kaminoans hadn’t believed them, had pushed back. Hack, one of Rex’s best slicers, and professional paranoid, had caught an outgoing transmission to someone the Kaminoans had addressed as “Lord Tyrannus.” They claimed it was a Jedi.

It was a cloaked figure that sounded remarkably like Dooku, stood and presented remarkably like Dooku, and demanded the clones be detained for him to talk to.

Rex had demanded the chips be removed, fuck the consequences, and that Hack contact Yoda.

By the time Dooku had indeed arrived, all the 501st had gotten dechipped, and they were making good headway on every other clone on Kamino. Rex had gotten rather more details than he’d expected from Nala Se about Fives – Murder doesn’t ask what happened to her, not with the fresh grief still rolling off of Rex. It was undoubtably unpleasant.

Yoda had also arrived before Dooku. He, Shaak Ti, and a contingent of troopers had met Lord Tyrannus on a landing platform, and Murder has to shake off the sense of déjà vu from his fight with Jango Fett too many years ago.

Dooku brought assassin droids, because Sith Lords are like that. He’d issued some kind of Order – not 66, but a whole string of numbers, and his shock when the clones had opened fire on him for the affront brings a vicious smile to Rex’s face.

It hadn’t been enough to win immediately. Shaak Ti was more used to training and teaching on Kamino. She had been injured enough to remove her from the fight early on. The clones were ready and eager to take on the clankers.

Dooku and Yoda had fought almost to a standstill. They’d been moving too fast, too erratically for even Anakin Skywalker’s best troops to keep up with, and they’d ended up dueling in the heart of the training facility. Recorded footage had shown Yoda winning by a hair, the grieving expression as he cut down his former padawan in the center of a clone training room.

It seemed that dead Sith exploded. Dooku had left a hole in the facility that removed parts of three floors.

He’d left no corpse, nor had Master Yoda. From the footage, the old Jedi had done something to try to defend himself, contain the explosion, but it had not been enough.

* * *

Sass, Murder, and Anakin are still reeling from the news as Rex leads them into the Council chambers. Master Plo is in his usual chair, looking irritable and a bit banged up. Ahsoka is in Mace’s chair next to him, looking uncomfortable, exhausted, and like she survived a middling bad landing, on the Skywalker scale of things. Wolffe and the entire Pack are arranged around the room, hands on weapons and worried scowls on their faces.

It seems that the forces on Cato Neimoidia got Order 66. The Pack had been in the air, as Plo’s personal squad, and they had not been able to totally fight off the order.

Ahsoka is still not a Jedi. She’d brought her star fighter in close enough to ‘ding the finish’ on Plo’s _Blade of Dorin_. Since the Pack could rationalize not shooting her down, they’d focused on her, and on defending Ahsoka from any incoming brothers that couldn’t keep themselves away.

Both Ahsoka and Plo had managed controlled but hard landings, fleeing into the planet’s wilder spaces. Anakin’s command to stand down had made it through before they’d been found, and Wolffe had then taken the initiative to contact her.

Wolffe grumbles and denies any hint of heroism, but Murder considers the praise warranted. It must have taken a disciplined and determined mind, as well as unbelievably twisty thinking, for Wolffe to convince himself that Ahsoka wouldn’t be right next to Plo, not to mention keeping her status as a non-Jedi – a legal and bureaucratic fiction, at best – foremost in his mind.

Their survival is the good news.

Most of the rest of the Council, however, is gone.

Luminara Unduli is in the Healer’s Ward, overseeing anything she can get her hands on.

Mace Windu, Kit Fisto, Agen Kolar, and Saesee Tiin went to confront the Chancellor – no one can find evidence of _why_ they went to face the Chancellor, or what prompted it, since their attack gave him the justification to unleash Order 66.

Their status is suspected to be dead, along with so many other Jedi. Some casualty reports have made it in, but thanks to Anakin’s command, those are spotty.

They are still going over reports, with Sass and Murder avoiding the theory about the Sith Lord until they have more details, when the news comes in.

The Senate has been shut down, with the vast majority of the representatives still inside the building.

Anakin might be the one leading the way back to the hanger, but Sass and Murder are on his heels.

Chancellor Palpatine, Sith Lord behind the war, the decimation of the army, and gods know what else, has several thousand very valuable hostages.

Hostages, including Bail Organa, Riyo Chuchi, and the pregnant Padmé Amidala.

* * *

The hardest part is getting _to_ the Senate building. Anakin’s slightly unsavory past in swoop racing, along with Ahsoka’s recent unfortunate time on the run gets them there in a number of small groups. The 212 contingent is happy to break something finally, getting them inside.

Sass is somewhat unsurprised to find it takes all of ten minutes to run into Padmé, Bail, and Riyo escorting a group of terrified senators out of the building. It’s apparently their third group out, and the politicians look relieved to be passed along to the actual military.

Sass and Murder give Anakin visible, obvious nudges, one from each side. # _It’s fine, Padawan,_ # Sass sends, because he can feel the stress cracking through them all, and it _is_ fine.

If they survive this, if the Order survives this, then the old rules will have to be tossed out the window. There are basic practicalities such as how there will never be enough masters for the younglings, not for years. There is the basic reason that the Kenobis are the absolute experts in how Attachment can be a benefit, not a hindrance.

It is because of that Attachment that they live.

Sass has to fight down a shiver, because that is the moment he realizes the Jedi Order as he knows it is dead. It is a prelude to something better, but gods and Force, what a price they’ve had to pay for it. He watches as Anakin makes a face at them, stepping up to Padmé with a murmur and a look that probably accompanies a mental reassurance before swooping her into a hug, and kissing her right there in front of everyone. The relieved tears she has right between kissing him back and punching him on the shoulder are a bit surprising, but she brushes them away to give a gobsmacked Ahsoka an apologetic grin and shrug.  

Riyo and Bail are the first to overcome their shock before sharing looks, slightly speculative grins, and then they each cuddle with a Kenobi twin.

“No,” Sass dryly informs Bail, who shrugs and starts to turn away.

“Spoilsport,” Murder mock grumbles, picking up on his twin’s impish notion. Too much stress, and they need to bleed some of it off too.

Sass makes a face at him, then leans around Bail. “Trade you, then.”

“Well I suppose if you insist.” Murder gently pushes Riyo towards Sass, while moving around to dip and kiss Bail Organa as if they’ve been married for years. Bail handles it with remarkable aplomb, though if one knows the man well enough one can find the shit-eating grin.

Riyo is giggling helplessly as Sass showers her with teasing little kisses before pulling away, reassuming the poise of the perfect Jedi Master while pretending he’s not hearing any of the snickering from the troops, nor noticing the goggling from the Senators. “Forgive us, Senators, we need to go face down a Sith lord.”

Bail rights himself, then glares at Sass. “A Sith Lord.”

“Yes.”

“In our Senate.”

“I doubt you’d find him on the janitorial staff.”

Padmé Amidala, once the Queen of Naboo who began her reign at 14 and fought a war within her first year of rule, frowns and draws both her blasters. “You’re not taking down a Sith Lord in our Senate without us.”

* * *

They find Palpatine in his offices, radiating Darkness and disdain in equal measure. Since they’ve faced off against Senate guards along the way, and left squads to guard their rear, by this point it is Plo and Ahsoka with the Pack, Padmé and Anakin with Rex, Sass and Murder with Cody. They left Gregor and a few other ARCs with Riyo and Bail, who are planning fiery speeches denouncing Palpatine – as Padmé pointed out, overthrowing a Sith Lord is one matter. Taking power back from him is completely another.

Palpatine’s first move is almost his last: he tries to Force choke Padmé. Rex and Cody throw themselves between the Sith and her, blasters firing while Rex wraps around her in a tackle to the floor.

Anakin roars out fury and lunges, only to find Palpatine is already standing, red lightsaber raised and blocking him. A moment later, the Chancellor ignites a second. Sass is there to block what would have been a fatal blow, and then he finds himself fighting for his life.

Plo and Ahsoka try to keep up as Palpatine proves to be a whirlwind of destruction, using the Force and lightsabers to devastating effect. Sass can see two members of the Pack go down, and he has only enough time to register it’s not Wolffe before he just Force shoves them all against the far wall. Palpatine takes the opportunity to lunge past Murder and Anakin into the halls, mocking cackles trailing after him.

Sass, Murder, and Anakin chase him through the halls, a weird nightmarish running battle that ends up with them all on top of the Senate dome. Palpatine, however the fuck he’s managed to train himself in Jar Kai, is hell to fight even for the Kenobi Skywalker team.

The problem for the Jedi is that they’re nowhere near fresh. Sass is still weak in the hand Grievous nearly broke. They’ve been running on stress and adrenaline and worry for days now. Palpatine takes Anakin’s biomechanical hand off at the wrist. From the way the bastard is laughing, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

When he takes Sass’ hand the same way moments later, it’s done with a blatant sneer and the obvious intent to take all three of them apart, most likely one limb at a time.

Sass is on his knees, trying to get his mind past the searing pain, trying to _think_ and plan and find a way out. Murder is in front of him, Anakin off to the side. At least their student doesn’t have pain receptors in that hand, and he’s just as good with the lightsaber lefthanded, but –

Sass had never expected someone with this kind of skill. How the fuck did the Chancellor find time to perfect Jar Kai, manipulate the Republic and Confederacy into gods know what corners, _and_ still have time to try to seduce Anakin to the Dark Side?

Then Murder and Anakin are off, charging back at Palpatine who laughs and makes no secret of how he’s hammering at Murder, lightsabers flicking out for the hands and wrists again and again. They hold out for almost a minute more, Sass assisting with a weak Force shove or pull as he can.

Palpatine is no idiot, no matter what else he is. He changes tactics without warning, lightsabers swinging down low as he spins. Murder falls, and Sass can feel through the bond an inadvertent burst of pain centered around his legs. Sass loses the battle to not vomit from the sensations, but there’s still relief, terror-fueled hope because his twin is still alive, though gods, he’s at the wrong angle to see if Murder lost the one leg, both, or ‘just’ took a serious hit.

Anakin looks ready to rip Palpatine to shreds one handed when the Senate guards show up. The blue-robed and helmeted beings boil up out of assorted hatches with blasters, Force pikes, and the throb of _kill, defend, destroy_ pulsing in the Force.

Palpatine cackles. “I want Skywalker alive, though damaged is quite acceptable!”

Weapons rise. Anakin draws back, lightsaber raised on guard. The men in blue fire, and the Chancellor staggers back with the most beautiful expression of shock on his face. The Wolf Pack keeps firing, as Plo Koon and Ahsoka lunge – former with a Senate guard helmet barely covering his antiox mask, the latter hiding behind him without even bothering to try to cover her montrals.

Palpatine overcomes his shock far faster than Sass would like, starting to deflect the blaster shots back at the Wolf Pack (and Sass does not want to know what happened to the original occupants of those uniforms). Ahsoka skids to a swift halt and starts deflecting the bolts in turn. A few make it past her, but while Comet goes down, it’s wounded instead of dead.

Master Plo’s display of skill stuns Sass, who never had much opportunity to see the Baran Do Sage fight with a staff. It’s a speciality of the Kel Dor Force users, and Master Plo is one of their best.

Between his Force pike and the Pack’s cover fire, Palpatine falls back. It’s not very far, but he is distracted enough to not notice Anakin. Sass watches his student lunge in, ignoring the blasterfire around him, and one-handed bisect the Sith Lord.

Plo steps back, staff still on guard. Anakin ends his lunge past the stunned looking Palpatine, that same fucking damned look Sass remembers from the last Sith he saw cut in two.

He can feel the wrongness in the Force, the inhale of power and vile energy.

Sass reaches out, gesturing as he uses the Force to grab the top part of Palpatine and _shove_ , sending that off the Senate’s roof.

Murder, still flat on his stomach and face a rictus of pain, does the same with the other half.

The explosion of nastiness and potential still takes out a significant part of the Senate dome, knocking everyone on the roof off their feet.

Sass can feel how the effort is too much for Murder, who collapses in a dead faint, and all Sass can do is try to funnel the Force into his twin in the hopes they might all make it out alive.


	10. Chapter 10

Murder is confused to wake up and find Cody is looking at him. It’s good, but confusing. It looks like the Jedi healing ward, at the Temple, and Cody –

Oh. Memory smacks him hard, and Murder _reaches_ immediately.

Sass is alive. Anakin. Ahsoka and Plo and he thinks he can feel Rex –

Cody puts a hand on his shoulder. “Palpatine’s dead. Wolffe lost a few of his Pack, but we didn’t take heavy losses.”

He tries not to sob with relief as he slumps back. “Padmé? The child?”

“They’re fine.”

“How about you?”

Cody snorts. “Still better than you.”

…Ah. That. He’d rather hoped he’d misremembered that part. Murder closes his eyes and lets his Force senses extend to himself, rather than his lineage – his family.

Left leg, gone at the knee. Right leg, serious muscle damage, would most likely need augmentation if he wanted to walk.

He’s not _thrilled_ with that, but it could have been far, far worse. _We could all be dead, or living under a Sith’s rule. Get over yourself, Kenobi_.

Cody lets out a long suffering sigh, then runs a gentle hand over Murder’s hair. “General Skywalker already promised to build you a new set of legs.” He shifts to sit on the bed, curling up with Murder. “But right now, Master Unduli promised us privacy.”

He blinks, trying to pretend he can’t feel what’s going on. “Cody, if that’s your attempt to offer a blowjob, I have to admit I’m not really in the mood.”

Worth the glare he gets, though. Cody has a genuine talent for a stink eye. And as long as he pretends to be paying attention to, well, _anything_ but–

Cody also cheats. Kisses him, gentle and sweet and absolute bastard, demanding his attention. “Murder. It’s all right.”

Gods dammit, no. He can feel tears well up, along with the urge to hit Cody because gods dammit, this is dumb and uncalled for. “Just stop that right now.”

“Why?”

He knows it’s not pity. He can feel that. He’s crying anyways. “The Order is in tatters, I doubt the Republic is much better, fuckall knows what shape the Seps are in, and so very many have lost so much more than a few limbs.”

Fuck Cody anyways, making the floodgates open, making Murder face the losses. Legs. Friends. Family, because that _is_ what the Order is, and the clones are brothers to more than just each other.

They won. It cost them.

He is endlessly grateful that Cody is there to hold him.

* * *

Sass doesn’t quite know what to do with Anakin. Three days of rest, and reports on top of mountains of reports, and now here they are in Padmé’s apartments, Anakin looking comfortable and at home in a way Sass has never seen before.

Anakin’s also found or made a replacement hand for himself, and now that the bacta cuff is off, he’s tinkering with a biomechanical one for Sass.

He keeps staring down at the parts Anakin’s assembling into a hand. It’s surreal, how deft his student is. “How many times have you remade your hand?”

Anakin snorts and grins, distracted by his work but not seeming to mind the conversation. “From scratch? I’ve lost count. Figured out awhile ago it was smart to keep some spare projects started, or the older models around.”

“Just in case?”

Anakin flips the tiny spanner over to rap Sass on the forearm. “Like you have any room to talk, Master ‘this lightsaber is your life don’t lose it’ Kenobi.”

Sass gives a haughty sniff. “When my brother, his student, and _his_ student in turn stop tossing themselves out of moving speeders, then you can complain again, Master Skywalker.”

It both hurts, and leaves him incredibly warm that Anakin flicks a quick look up at him. There’s a warm, pleasantly stunned grin on his face, same as there has been every other time someone’s called Anakin by his new title lately.

Sass hadn’t had to argue very hard that if killing a Sith was enough for him and Murder to be knighted, then a Sith Lord damn well ought to count for Mastery for Anakin. The new Council – led by Plo and including a still confused Ahsoka Tano, for all that she still refused to be brought back into the Order – hadn’t hesitated in making it so.

The door opens, and Padmé comes in to sag into the spare chair. Her pregnancy is finally visible, and while it makes her look tired it also seems that she is taking the many changes in her life well.

“Senator,” Sass declares, not quite keeping a smirk off his face. “I will admit I keep wanting to call you Chancellor.”

Padmé’s glare really ought to kill. “I’ll leave that mess to Bail, Riyo, and Mon Mothma, thank you.”

“Co-Chancellors,” Anakin snorts and shakes his head. “That’s going to tangle up progress an infinite amount.”

“Not during their reign,” Padmé says, sounding between smug and cranky. “And if it’s not working, that’s a sign of other problems.”

“Do you think it will work in the long term?”

Padmé tilts her head, studying Anakin’s work as he continues to connect Sass has no idea what within the understated metal framework. She finally sighs. “I don’t know. But can it really be worse than Sith Lord Palpatine?”

* * *

It is almost strange, walking into Padmé’s home on Naboo. None of the four of them are in armor, though Sass and Murder carry their lightsabers while Cody and Rex have blasters and probably a dozen other weapons each secreted under their civilian clothes. It’s still a battle to get Rex to leave the armor at home, but Cody’s found a cloth alternative that isn’t quite up to the quality of Phase IIs for protection but is parsecs better for mobility. From what Murder last heard, Rex’s persistent bitching (and field testing) is getting the armor company to push their boundaries, as well as recruit other clones for development.

Sometimes Murder wonders if that’s part of the reason Rex bitches so much in public about it, but all it takes is a brush of the Captain’s mind when he can’t wear his armor. Rex hates civilian wear enough that if it weren’t much easier for them all he’d never bother.

Well, easier for them all, and it means Cody stops needling his younger brother about it. Sass and Murder have speculated about which is a bigger factor, and they can’t find any decent answers. Murder honestly isn’t sure he wants to know.

Shmi, her husband, and his son meet them at the door along with Padmé’s sister. They make small talk for a bit, though the youngest Lars looks to be eyeing Padmé’s sister with a due amount of terror. Murder’s heard stories about Sola Naberrie, so he can only speculate which way Owen Lars got traumatized.

With the Jedi and their clones now available for “babysitting,” and it’s never cleared up if that means Anakin and Padmé or the newborns, the Larses and Sola clear out. With the impeccable timing of Jedi, not three minutes later the doors to Padmé’s rooms open.

Ahsoka and Plo were the ones on planet when Padmé went into labor, so it’s not a surprise that they are the ones bringing the children out. Murder can sense an exhausted and delighted Anakin still inside, right next to the impression of an exhausted and sleeping Padmé.

“Padawans,” Plo rumbles, beaming as if he’s carrying his own offspring. Ahsoka looks a little more concerned about waking the babies, but Sass and Murder crowd around without too much concern. Master Plo might not have spent as much time in the creche as Master Yoda used to, but he’s probably the most experienced being in the room when it comes to younglings.

Then much to Murder’s delight it turns out Cody’s got a thing for caring for little ones. From the bit of a smirk he has, Rex has known for awhile.

Plo and Ahsoka leave them with the younglings, a grumbling Wolffe driving the speeder and looking odd but right in the mix of traditional Jedi garb and Phase IIs.

The twins end up sandwiched between Rex and Cody, baby Luke and Leia on the twins’ laps. Murder can’t help but worry for a moment about the somewhat obvious cybernetics to his leg, but Luke doesn’t seem to mind at all. Then again, kid’s swaddled up in a blanket so well maybe he has no idea.

Rex notices his look, though, and drapes an arm around Murder’s shoulders. “Think the Temple’s ready for another set of twins yet?”

Sass laughs softly, which gets a squinty look from Leia – at least, Murder thinks it does. Younglings aren’t really his area. Padawans, yes. Babies, not so much. “Twin Skywalkers and twin Kenobis, I’m not sure anyone’s ready for that.”

Murder smiles and snugs closer to his twin. “That’ll be good for the Order.”

“All of us,” Sass agrees, and Rex and Cody share a look around the twins.

“Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us,” Rex murmurs, grinning even as he gives Murder’s shoulders a light squeeze.

Cody snorts and reaches out to run a light finger down Leia’s cheek. “Whoever tries to get in our way isn’t going to know what hit ‘em.”


End file.
